A16884 1600 Albott, Robert, fl. 1600. Englands Parnassus: or the choysest flowers of our moderne poets, with their poeticall comparisons Descriptions of bewties, personages, castles, pallaces, mountaines, groues, seas, springs, riuers, &c. Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable.

ENGLANDS Parnassus: OR The choysest Flowers of our Moderne Poets, with their Poeticall comparisons.
Descriptions of Bewties, Personages, Castles, Pallaces, Mountaines, Groves, Seas, Springs, Rivers, &c.
Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable.
NL
Imprinted at London for N.L.C.B. and T.H. 1600.
TO THE RIGHT WORshipfull, Syr Thomas Mounson, Knight.
ENglish Maecenas, bounties elder brother,
The spreading wing, whereby my fortune flies;
Vnto thy wit, and vertues, and none other,
I consecrate these sacred Poesies.
Which whilst they live, (as they must live for ever)
Shall give thy honour life, and let men know,
That those to succour vertue who persever,
Shall conquer time, and Laethes overflow.
•pickt these flowers of Learning from their stem,
Whose heavenly Wits & golden Pens have chac't
Dull ignorance that long affronted them.
In view of whose great glories thou art plac't,
That whilst their wisdoms in these writings florish,
Thy fame may live, whose wealth doth wisedome norish.

Your Worships humbly at commaund. R. A.
To the Reader.
I Hang no juie out to sell my Wine,
The Nectar of good witts will sell it selfe it selfe;
I feare not, what detraction can define,
I saile secure from Enuies storme or shelfe.
I set my picture out to each mans vewe,
Limd with these colours, and so cunning arts,
That like the Phaenix will their age renewe,
And conquer Enuie by their good desarts.
If any Cobler carpe above his shoo,
I rather pittie, then repine his action,
For ignorance stil maketh much adoo,
And wisdom loves that, which offēds detraction.
Go fearles forth my booke, hate cānot harm thee,
Apollo bred thee, & the Muses arm thee.

R. A.
A Table of all the speciall matters contained in this Booke.

A
ALbion
348
Angels.
Pag. 1.2
Ambition
3
Affliction
7. vid. povertie.
Art
9
Audacitie
8
Auarice
10
August
369
Autumnus
368
Apollo
372
Acheron
504
Assault
375
Adam
372
Astonishment
462.446
Astrologie
345
Arithmeticke
345

B
BEautie.
13.385.465
Banishment
21
Bashfulnesse
21
Blisse
21
Bountie
23
Battaile
345
Beasts
498.486
Byrds
487

C
CAre
24
Charitie
25
Chastitie
26
Children
28
Christ
28
Cyprus
353
Cynthia
355
Cupid
357
Ceremonie
379
Ceston
407
Confusion of languages.
384
Clamour
457
Care of children
462
Chaunge
29
Chaunce
30
Counsaile
31
Combat
347
Concord
32
Conscience
33
Craft
36
Country. Commonweale.
37
Content
38
Court
41
Courtier effeminate
352
Courage
39.448
Courtesie
45.439
Crueltie
46
Custome
47
Calme weather
359
Companie
452

D
DAlliance
423
Daunger
47
Dearth
346
Death
49.453.445
Dread
49
Delaie
54
Deluge
352
Desire
56
Destenie
57
Dispaire
60
Discord
64
Dissimulation
67.428
Division of the day naturall.
324
Diliculum
326
Description of Mammo
256
Diana
555
Discontent
377
Doubt
381
Description of Beautie and Personage.
385
Descript. of Pall. Cast. &c.
466
Descrip. of seas, Rivers, &c.
478
Drunkards
450.352
Divell
92
Disdaine
345

E
EArth.
68
End
68
Enuie
70
Error
73.434
Eden
349
Egypt
349
Echo
503
Eagle
504.505

F
FAith
75
Fame
75
Famine
85
Fate
86
Feare
88.431
Feeling
264
Fortitude
91
Felicitie
93
Folly. Fooles
94
Fortune
96
Friendship. Friends
103
Frugalitie
106
Fury
107
Fight
454
Furies
502
Flight
433
Fishes
487

G
GEometrie
343
Gentlenes
109
Gifts
108
Graces
496
Gentrie
110
Gluttony
110
Good name
113
Goodnesse
113
God
114
Good deeds
120
Greatnes
121
Gallicinium
325

H
HAte
129
Hargabush
382
Heaven
125
Heart
128
Hearing
262
Haste
132
Horse
382
Hell
133
Honour
133
Hope
136 445
Humilitie
140
Hypocrisie
141
Heate
373
Hoast
376
Hearbes
491
Harpyes
352
Hierusalem
349

I
IEalouzie
141
Intempestanox
337
Ignorance
146
Impatience
147
joy
458
Infamie
147
Ingratitude
147
Innocencie
148
Inconstancie
150
Ill company
450
Iniustice
151
justice
152
january
368
july
370

K
KIngs
155.451
Kingdomes
158
Knowledge
159
Kisses
344

L
LAbour
161.460
Learning
162
Leachery
163
Lawes
165
Libertie
166 463
Life
167
Love
170.429
Lovers
380
Logistillaes Castle
466
Logicke
342

M
MAgicke
192
Man
193
Marriage
198
Maladie
201
Miserie
203
Melancholy
205
Miscellanea
496
Memorie
205
Mercie
206
Mischiefe
206
Minde
208
Murder
210
Muses
211
Musicke
215.343
Mediae noctis inclinatio
324
Mane
327
Meridies
331
Morpheus
370
Multitude
464
Maiestie
442

N
NEpenthe
503
Nature
216
Nobilitie
217
Noctis initium
339.334
Noctis concubium
335
Neptune
371.372
Night
451
Nilus
Nilus

O
OLdage
219
Opinion
221
Opportunitie
222
Occasion.
222

P
Passion
225
Parents
226
Palmer
352
Peace
227
Pleasure
229
Poesie
231
Poets
234
Poeticall descriptions
340
Plentie
238
Pollicie
239.459
Povertie
241
Praier
242
Praise
242
Providence
243
Pride
244
Paradise
354
Phoebus
372
Poeticall comparisons
420
Phaenix
506
Princes
246
People
344
Proteus
371
Posteritie
385
Proper Epithites, &c.
482

Q
Quietnesse
249

R
RAge
439
Reason
294
Renowne
381
Repentance
252
Rest
254
Revenge
254
Riches
 
Rhetoricke
345
Rainbowe
353
Rome
373

S
Sacriledge
258
Secrecie
259
Silence
259
Sences
260
Sight
260
Smelling
263
Sinne
265
Slaunder
267
Solis ortus
330
Solis occasus
331
Spring
364
Sleepe
269
Solitarinesse
270
Souldiers
271
Soule
271
Sorrow
278.424.426
Suspition
281
Sommer
368
Skirmish
376
Sorrowes
424
Satires
489

T
Tasting
26•
Teares
281
Temperance
282
Thoughts
283
Thetis
371
Time
284
Truth
287
Theologie
340
Treason
288
Trees
492
Tyrannie
289
Thirst.
347.374
Tempests
35•

V
Vacation
379
Vertue
290
Vice
293
Victory
294
Vnderstanding
295
Vowes
295
Virginitie
296
Victory
452
Vse
297
Vesper.
333
Venus
356

W
Warre
297.461
Will
301
Wit
304
Woe
306
Words
307
Womem
310
Wrath
316
World
318
Windes
349.493
Winter
367

Y
Youth.
321.
FINIS.
Errata.
Which for with 27. eurse, curse 28. but will, but who will 50 frowne, frowning 33. rime time 37. Stover Storer 38. Prophets Prophet 57 shrid thrid 58. Title of Enuie left out 70. ardeus ardens 78 evesit evexit 7•. angury augury 90 amists mists 90. brine bring 91. guilt gilt 92. aquersitie aduersitie 106. Basis Rasis 112. beine being 122. title of paine, 124. for 225. stary starre 128. weare weares 136 tode trode 140, fierer feicer 105 seut set, 177 Dictynua Dictynna 181. for natures of magicke 192. shoot-fire, shot free. floe sloe 233. flay stay 231. quive•'s quire's 24•. presbitie presbitrie •52. infancie iniurie ibid. paron pardon 253 her hell 257. sosophist, sophist 28•. art heart, 290 Fitz Griffon F••z jeffrey, 304 Murston Ma•ston 32•. harkenger harbenger. 326. chearing checkering 328. Soles solis 330. hunnid humid 334. nidnight midnight 338. dreadly deadly 338. growe growes 352. Camus Cadmus 468. twindring twining 480 Spanie Spaw 465. Gauges Ganges 486. Guylon Gyhon 493. Phyton Physon 493. Hector Nectar 493. neves done Neroes doome 494.
THE CHOYSEST FLOWers of our Moderne English Poets.
Angels.

FAire is the heaven where happie soules have place,
In full enjoyment of felicitie,
Whence they do still behold the glorious face
Of the divine eternall maiestie.
More faire is that where those Idees on hie
Enraunged be, which Plato so admirde,
And pure intelligences from God inspirde.
Yet fairer is that heaven, in which do raigne
The soveraigne powers and mightie Potentates,
Which in their hie protections do containe
All mortall Princes and imperiall states.
And fairer yet, whereas the royall seats
And heavenly Dominations are set:
From whom all earthly governance is fet.
Yet farre more faire be those bright Cherubins
Which all with golden wings are over dight,
And those eternall burning Seraphins
Which from their faces dart out fiery light.
Yet fairer then they both, and much more bright
Be th' Angels and Archangels, which attend
On Gods owne person, without rest or end.
Ed. Spencer.

The first composing of the number nine,
Which of all numbers is the most divine,
From orders of the Angels doth arise,
Which be contained in three Hierarchies,
And each of these three Hierarchies in three,
The perfect forme of true felicitie:
And of the Hierarchies I spake of erst,
The glorious Epiphania is the first,
In which the hie celestiall orders bin
Of Thrones, of Cherubs, and of Seraphin:
The second holds the mightie Principates
The Ephionia, the third Hierarchie
With Vertues, Angels, and Archangels bee.
And thus by threes we aptly do define,
And do compose this sacred number nine:
Yet each of these nine orders grounded be
Vpon some one particularitie.
M. Drayton.

Out of the Hierarchies of Angels sheene,
The gentle Gabriell God cald from the rest:
Twixt God and soules of men that righteous beene.
Embassador he is for every blest.
The iust commands of heavens eternall king,
Twixt skies and earth he up and downe doth bring.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Our walls of flesh that close our soules, God knew how weak, and gave
A further gard, even every man, an Angell guide to save:
And men for us be angels, while they work our souls to save.
V V. V Varner.

— If Angels fight
Weake men must fall, for heaven stil gards the right.
W. Shakespeare.
Ambition.

Ambition is a Vultur vile,
That feedeth on the heart of pride,
And finds no rest when all is tride.
For worlds cannot confine the one,
Th'other lists and bounds hath none.
And both subuert the mind, the state
Procure destruction, enuy, hate.
S. Daniell.

Ambition, fie upon thy painted cheeke,
(Woe worth the beautie sleepes not with the face)
For thou art hatefull, foule, unfaire, unmeete:
A poyson-painted pleasure ▪ mads men chase.
Thou reasonlesse desire that makes men seeke
To kisse the same, whilest fire doth thee imbrace.
Thou onely strong disordered, rulest passion,
Thou marst mens minds, and pu•st them out of fashiō.
I. Markham.

The golden chaine of Homers hie devise
Ambition is, or cursed avarice:
Which all gods haling being tied to jove
Him from his setled height could never move.
Intending this, that though that powerfull chaine
Of most Herculean vigor to constraine
Men from true vertue, or their present states,
Attempt a man, that manlesse changes hates:
And is enobled with a deathlesse love,
Of things eternall dignified above:
Nothing shall stirre him from adorning still,
This shape with vertue and his power with will.
G. Chapman.

— The greedy thirst of royall crowne
That knowes no kindred, nor regards no right,
Stird Porrex up, to pluck his brother downe:
Who unto him assembling forraine might,
Made warre on him, and fell himselfe in fight:
Whose death to avenge his mother mercilesse
Most merciles of women, Eden hight:
Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,
And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse.
Ed. Spencer.

A diademe once dazeling the eie,
The day too darke, to see affinitie:
And where the arme is stretcht to reach a crowne,
Friendship is broke, the dearest things thrown downe.
M. Drayton.

— Realme-rape, spareth neither kin nor friend.
I. Higgins. Mir. of Ma.

Who fight for crownes, set life, set all to light,
Who aime so hie, wil die, or hit the white.
Doctor Lodge.

One riseth by an others fall, and some do clime so fast,
That in the clouds they do forget what climats they have past
W. Warner.

The Eagle minded minds that nestle in the sun,
Their lofty heads have leaden heeles, and end where they begun.
Idem.

O, fatall is the ascent unto a crowne,
From whēce men come not down, but tumble downe
S. Daniell.

Like as the heaven two Sunnes cannot containe,
So in the earth two Kings cannot remaine
Of equall state: so doth Ambition crave,
One King will not another equall have.
Tho. Hudson. Transl.

Whom so the mindes unquiet state upheaves,
Be it for love or feare; when fancie reaves
Reason her right, by mocking of the wit,
If once the cause of this affection flit,
Reason prevailing on the unbrideled thought,
Downe falls he, who by fancie climbd aloft.
I. H. M. of Magist.

Desire of rule within a climbing brest
To breake a vowe, may beare the buckler best.
G. Gascoigne.

In some courts shall you see Ambition
Sit peecing Dedalus old waxen wings:
But being clapt on and they about to flie,
Euen when their hopes are busied in the cloudes
They melt against the sunne of maiestie,
And downe they tumble to destruction.
Tho. Dekkar.

Better sit still men say then rise and fall.
High state the bed wherein misfortune lies.
Mars most unfriendly, when most kind he seemes:
Who climeth hie on earth, he hardest lights,
And lowest falles attends the highest flights.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

As highest hils with tempest be most touched,
And tops of trees most subiect unto winde,
And as great Towers with stone strongly couched,
Have many falles when they be underminde,
Euen so by proofe in worldly things we finde,
That such as climbe the top of hie degree,
From feare of falling never can be free.
I. H. M. of Magist.

Ambition with the Eagle loves to bvild,
Nor on the mountaine dreads the winter blast:
But with selfe soothing doth the humour guild
With arguments, correcting what is past.
Forecasting kingdomes, dangers unforecast:
Leaving this poore word of content to such,
Whose earthly spirits have not fiery tuch.
M. Drayton.

— The ambitious once inured to raigne,
Can never brooke a private state againe.
S. Daniell.

— Warlike Caesar tempted with the name
Of this sweet Island never conquered,
And enuying the Britons blazed fame,
(O hideous hunger of dominion) hither came.
Ed. Spencer.

— Ambition
In princely pallace and in stately townes,
Doth often creep, and close within conuaies
(To leave behind it) damage and decaies:
By it be love and amitie destroid.
It breakes the lawes, and common concord beates.
Kingdomes and realmes it topsie turuy turnes.
G. Gascoigne.

Be not ambitiously a king, nor grudgingly decline,
One God did roote out Cis his stock, and raise up jesses line.
W. Warner.

The aspirer once attained unto the toppe,
Cuts off those meanes by which himselfe got up.
S. Daniel.

Haughtie Ambition makes a breach in hills,
Runs drie by sea amongst the raging scills.
Th. Hud.
Affection.

Affection is a coale that must be coolde,
Else suffered, it will set the heart on fire,
The fire hath bounds, but deepe desire hath none.
V V. Shakespeare.

Affection by the countenance is descri'de,
The light of hidden fier it selfe it selfe discovers,
And love that is concealed, betraies poore Lovers.
Th. Marlowe.

— Most wretched man,
That to affections doth the bridle lend,
In their beginning they are weake and wan,
But soone through sufferance growe to fearefull end,
Whilest they are weake, betime with them contend.
For when they once to perfect strength do growe,
Strong warres they make, and cruell battrie bend,
Gainst fort of reason, it to overthrowe.
Ed. Sp.
Affliction.

If so Affliction once her warre begin,
And threat the feeble sense with sword and fire,
The mind contracts her selfe her selfe and shrinketh in,
And to her selfe her selfe she gladly doth retire.
As Spiders toucht seeke their webbes in most part,
As Bees in stormes unto their hives returne,
As bloud in daunger gathers to the hart,
As men seeke townes when foes the country burne.
I. Davies.

If ought can touch us ought, afflictions lookes
(Make us to looke into our selues our selues so neare)
Teach us to know our selues our selues beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned schooles that ever were.
Idem.

This makes our senses quicke and reason cleare,
Resolues our will and rectifies our thought:
So do the winds and thunder clense the aire,
So working seas settle and purge the wine,
So lopt and pruned trees do flourish faire.
So doth the fire the drossie gold refine.
I. Davies.
Audacitie.

What need we creepe the crosse to give unto a begging saint,
Tush, tush, a fig for booke love, none be fortunate, that faint.
W. Warner.

Things out of hope are compast oft with ventering,
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission:
Affection faints not like a pale faced coward,
But then woes best, when most his choice is froward.
W. Shakespeare.

Blushing and sighing Theseus never strove
To wooe and winne Antiope his love.
I. Weever.

— When all is done that do we may,
Labour we sorrowing all the night, and sving all the day,
The female faultie custome yeelds lesse merit, greatest pay:
And ventrous more then vertuous means doth bear the bel away.
W. Warner.
Art.

Art hath a world of secrets in her powers.
M. Drayton.

Art curbeth nature, nature guildeth Art.
I. Marston.

Things sencelesse live by Art, and rationall die,
By rude contempt of Art and industrie.
G. Chapman.

Art hath an enemy cald ignorance.
B. johnson.

Arts perish, wanting honour and applause.
D. Lodge.

— Arts best nurse is honours chast desire,
And glory sets all studious hearts on fire.
Tho. Storer.

Art must be wonne by art and not by might.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Valour and Art are both the sonnes of jove,
Both brethren by the father not the mother:
Both peeres without compare, both live in love,
But Art doth seeme to be the elder brother,
Because he first gave life unto the other.
Who afterward gave life to him againe,
Thus each by other doth his life retaine.
Ch. Fitz. jeffery.

Art is nobilities true register,
Nobilitie Arts champion still is said:
Learning is fortitudes right calender,
And fortitude is Learnings saint and aide,
Thus if the ballances twixt both bewaide,
Honour sheelds Learning from all iniurie,
And Learning honour from blacke infamie.
Idem.

Vaine is the Art that seeks it selfe it selfe for to deceive.
Ed. Spencer.
Auarice.

— Greedie Auarice by him did ride,
Vpon a Camell loaden all with gold,
Two iron coffers hung on either side,
With precious mettall, full as they might hold:
And in his lap a heape of coyne he tolde,
For of his wicked pelfe his god he made,
And unto hell, himselfe for money solde
Accursed usurie was all his trade,
And right and wrong alike in equall ballance waied.
Ed. Spencer.

Forth of a Desart wood an ugly beast
There seemed to come, whose shape was thus defined,
Eares of an Asse, a Wolfe in head and breast,
A carkasse all with pinching famine pined,
A Lyons grisly iawe, but all the rest
To fox-like shape did seeme to be enclined,
In England, France, in Italy and Spaeine,
Yea all the world this monster seemed to raine,
Where ere this cruell monster set his foote,
He kild and spoyld of every sort and state:
No height of birth or state with him did boote
He conquered Kings and crownes all in like rate.
Yea this beasts power had tane so deep a roote,
It entred in Christs Vicars sacred gate,
And vexed Cardinalls and Bishops chiefe,
And bred a scandall even in our beliefe.
S. I. Harr.

Python whom Phoebus kiled with thousand darts,
Was monster lesse then this by thousand parts.
Idem.

Eriphilaes Armor.
In vaine it were for to declare in Verse,
How sumptuously her armour all was wrought,
All set with stones, and set with Indian Gold,
Perfect for use, and pleasant to behold.
Mounted she was, but not upon a steede,
In stead whereof, she on a Wolfe did sit:
A Wolfe whose match Apulia doth not breede,
Taught to obey, although she us'de no bit.
And all of sandy colour was her weede,
Her armes were this, for such a Champion fit,
An ugly toade was painted on her shield,
With poyson swolne, and in a sable field.
Idem.

— Auarice, all armed in hooking •enters,
All clad in birdlime, without bridge she venters,
Through fell Charibdis and false Syrtes Nesse,
The more her wealth, the more her wretchednesse,
Cruell, respectlesse, friendlesse, faithlesse else,
Those foule base figures in each dunghill poole,
Like Tantalus starued in the midst of store,
Not that she hath, but what she wants she counts,
A well-winged Bird, that never loftie mounts.
I. Syluister. Transl.

Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend,
And lowe abase the hie heroike spirit,
That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend.
Ed. Spencer.

We aged carke to live, and leave an overplus in store,
Perhaps for spend-alls: so amidst abundance live we pore.
W. Warner.

Those which much covet, are with gaine so fond,
That what they have not that which they possesse:
They scatter and unloose from their bond.
And so by hoping more, they have but lesse,
Or gaining more, the profit of excesse
Is but to surfet, and such griefes sustaine,
That they prove banckrout in this pore rich vaine.
W. Shakespeare.

Those that will all devour, must all forgoe.
Tho. Dekkar.

Cōtent thee with unthreatned mean, & play not Aesops dog
The gold that gētle Bacchus gave, did greedy Mydas clog:
Commit not treasure with thy child to greedy minded men,
Thou leavest Polydor a spoile to Polymnestor then.
W. V Varner.
Beautie.

— Sacred Beautie is the fruit of sight,
That curtesie that speakes before the toong:
The feast of soules, the glory of the light,
Enuy of age, and everlasting yoong:
Pitties commaunder, Cupids richest throne,
Musicke entraunced, never duly sung:
The summe and court of all proportion.
And that I may dull speeches least afford,
All Rhethorickes Flowers, in lesse then in a word.
G. Chapman.

— Bewtie borne of heavenly race.
Bewtie (daughter of maruaile) ô see how
Thou canst disgracing sorrowes sweetly grace,
What power thou shewest in a distressed browe,
That makest affliction faire givest teares their grace.
What? can untressed locks, can torne rent haire?
A weeping eye, a wailing face be faire?
I see then artlesse feature can content,
And that true Bewtie needs no ornament.
S. Daniell.

— Bewtie is the bait which with delight
Doth man allure for to enlarge his kinde,
Bewtie the burning lampe of heavens light,
Darting her beames into each feeble minde,
Against whose power, nor God nor man can finde
Defence, reward, the daunger of the wound:
•ut being hurt, seeke to be medicinde,
Of her that first did stirre that mortall wound.
Ed. Spencer.

— Bewtie is womans golden crowne,
Mans conqueresse and feminine renowne:
•ot joind with love, who deare yet ever sold it?
•or bewties cheape, except loves eye behold it.
I. Weever.

— Bewtie is an adamant to all.
•ewtie, natures juie-bush each passenger doth call.
W. Warner.

•eldome wants guests where Bewtie bids the feast,
•ens eyes with wonders nere are satisfied,
At fairest signes best welcome is surmised,
The shrine of love doth seldome offring want,
Nor with such counsell, clients never scant.
M. Drayton.

All Orators are dumbe where Bewtie pleadeth.
W. Shakespeare.

Bewtie it selfe it selfe doth of it selfe it selfe perswade
The eyes of men, without an Orator?
What needeth then Apollogies be made,
To set forth that which is so singular?
Idem.

Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure
The sense of man, and all his minde possesse,
As Bewties lovely bate that doth procure
Great warriors oft their rigor to represse,
And mightie hands forget their manlinesse.
Driven with the power of an heart-robbing eye,
And wrapt in flowers of a golden tresse.
That can with melting pleasance mollifie,
Their hardned hearts enured to bloud and crueltie.
Ed. Spencer.

O how can bewtie maister the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong?
Idem.

No armour can be found that can defend,
Transpercing raies of christall pointed eyes.
S. Daniell.

Hard is that heart which Bewtie makes not soft.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

— Who so young that loves not?
Or who so olde that womens Bewtie moves not?
W. Weever.

A sparke of Bewtie burns a world of men.
Idem.

O what is Bewtie if it be not seene?
Or what is't to be seene and not admired,
And though admired, unlesse in love desired.
Never were cheekes of Roses locks of Amber,
Ordained to live imprisoned in a Chamber.
S. Daniell.

Nature created Bewtie for the view,
(Like as the fire for heate, the Sun for light)
The faire do ever hold this pledge as dve,
By auntient charter to live most in sight,
As she that is debared it, hath not right:
In vaine our friends from this do us dehort,
For Bewtie will be where is most resort.
Idem.

All excellence of shape is made for sight,
To be a beetle else were no defame:
Hid Bewties lose their ends, and wrong their right.
G. Chapman.

Heaven made bewtie like her selfe her selfe to viewe,
Not to be lapt up in a smoakie mewe:
A rosie tainted feature is heavens golde,
Whilest all men ioy to touch, all to behold.
M. Drayton.

The ripest corne dies if it be not reapt,
Bewtie alone is lost too early kept.
Ch. Marlowe.

It hath bene through all ages ever seene,
That with the praise of armes and chivalrie,
The praise of Bewtie still hath joined beene,
And that for reasons speciall privitie,
For either doth on other much relie,
For he me seemes most fittest is to serue,
That can her best defend from villanie,
And she most fit his seruice doth deserue,
That fairest is, and from her faith doth never swarue.
Ed. Spencer.

— Bewtie is more bright and cleare.
The more it is admired of many a wight,
And noblest she that serued is of noble Knight.
Idem.

Rich Bewtie, that each Lover labours for,
Tempting as heapes of new coynd glowing Golde,
(Rackt of some miserable treasurer,)
Drawes his desires, and them in chaines enfold,
Vrging him still to tell it and conceale it:
But Bewties treasure never can be tolde,
None can peculiar ioy, yet all must steale it.
O Bewtie, this same bloodie siege of thine,
Starues me that yeeld, and feeds me till I pine.
G. Chapman.

O Bewtie, still thy Empire swims in blood,
And in thy peace, warre stores himselfe with foode.
Idem.

O Bewtie Syrene faire enchaunting good,
Sweete silent Rhethoricke of perswading eyes:
Dumbe eloquence, whose power doth move the blood
More then the workes, or wisedome of the wise.
Still harmony whose Diapazon lies
Within a brow, the key which passions move
To ravish the sence and play a world in love.
S. Daniell.

Beautie enchasing love, love gaining Beautie,
To such as conflict Sympathies enfold:
To perfect riches doth a sounder dutie
Then all endevours, for by all consent
All wealth and wisedome rests in time content.
More force and art is beautie joind with love,
Then thrones with wisedom, ioyes of them composde,
Are armes more proofe gainst any griefe we prove:
Then all their vertue scorning miserie,
Or iudgements grave in stoicke gravitie.
G. Chapman.

Beautie a begger, fieit is too bad
When in it selfe it selfe sufficiencie is had:
It was not made to please the wandring eie,
But an attire to adorne sweet modestie.
If modestie and women once do sever,
Farwell our fame, farwell our name for ever.
M. Drayton.

O Beautie that betraies thy selfe thy selfe to every amorous eie,
To trap thy proud professors, what is it but wantons trie?
V Vhere through it sildom haps the faire from mean deceits to flie.
W. Warner.

This Beautie faire, is an inchauntment made
By natures witchcraft, tempting men to bvie
With endlesse showes, what endlesly will fade,
Yet promise chapmen all eternitie.
But like to goods ill got a fault it hath,
Brings men inricht therewith to beggery,
Vnles the enricher be as rich in faith
Enamourd, (like god selfe-love) with her owne
Seene in an other then tis heaven alone.
G. Chapman.

— Beautie is a baine
To such as feed their fancy with fond love,
That when sweet youth with lust is overthrowne,
It rves in age.
R. Greene.

Where Venus strikes with Beautie to the quicke,
It little vailes safe reason to apply:
Fewe are the cares for such as are love sicke,
But love.
Idem.

Truce, warre, and woe, do wait at Beauties gate,
Time lost, laments, reports and privie grudge:
And last, fierce love is but a partiall iudge,
Who yeelds for seruice shame, for friendship hate.
D. Lodge.

The bees of Hybla have besides sweet hony smarting stings,
And beauty doth not want a bait that to repentance brings.
W. Warner.

— Faire colours soonest soyle,
Things of best price are subiect most to spoyle.
Ch. Middleton.

The fairer cheeke hath oftentimes a soule
Leprous as sin it selfe it selfe, then hell more foule.
Th. Dekkar.

All men do erre, because that men they bee,
And men with Beautie blinded, cannot see.
G. Peele.

Beautie, heaven and earth this grace doth win,
It supples rigor, and it lessons sin.
G. Chapman.

Nought is under heavens wide hollownes,
That moves more deare compassion of mind:
Then Beautie to unworthy wretchednes
Through enuies snares, or fortunes freakes unkind.
Ed. Spencer.

— Nothing ill becomes the faire,
But crueltie which yeelds unto no praier.
S. Daniell.

Like as the Sun in a Diameter
Fires and inflames obiects removed far,
And heateth kindly, shining laterally,
So Beautie sweetly quickens when tis nie:
But being seperated and removed,
Burnes where it's cherisht, murders where it loved.
Ch. Marlowe.

Simples fit Beautie, fie on drugs and art.
M. Drayton.

— Faire words and powre-attractive bewtie,
Bring men to want on in subiective dutie.
I. Weever.

— Wayward Beauty doth not fancy move.
A frowne forbids, a smile ingendreth love.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

— What els is forme, but fading aire?
Yea oft, because assaulted of, it hurteth to be faire.
W. V Varner.

Full soone the fairest face would cease from being such,
If not preserued curiously from tendring more then much
That wondrous patterne where soever it bee
Whether in earth laid up in secret store,
Or els in heaven that no man may it see
With sinfull eies, for feare it to deflore:
Is perfect Beautie which all men adore.
Whose face and feature doth so far excell
All mortall sence, that none the same may tell.
Ed. Spencer.

O Beautie, how attractive is thy power?
For as the lives heat clings about the hart,
So all mens hungry eyes do haunt thy bower:
Raigning in Greece, Troy swumme to thee in art.
Removed to Troy, Greece followed thee in feares,
Thou drewest ech syrelesse sword, ech childlesse dart
And puldst the Towers of Troy about thine eares.
G. Chapman.
Varietie of Beauties.

The harbingers of lust his amorous eyes did walke,
More clogd with chāge of Beauties thē K. Midas once wit
•gold
Now this, now that, and one by one he did them all behold.
This seemed faire, & that as faire, and letting either passe,
A third he thought a proper girle, a fourth, a pleasant lasse.
Lovely the fift, lively the sixt, the seventh a lovely wench,
The eight of sweet complexion, to the ninth he altereth thē
••
That mildly seemed maiesticall, tenth modest lookes & toong
The eleventh could sweetly entertain, the twelft was fresh & yoong
The next a gay brownetta, next admired & yoong.
And every feature so intic't his intricate affection,
As liking, all alike, he loved confounded in election.
W. V Varner.
Banishment.

No Banishment can be to him assignde,
Who doth retaine a true resolued minde.
M. Drayton.


•n exile, every man or bond or free
Of noble race, or meaner parentage:

•s not in this unlike unto the slave
That must of force obey to each mans will,
And praise the peevishnesse of each mans pride.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.
Bashfulnesse.

— So respected
Was Bashfulnesse in Athens it erected
To chast Agneia, which is shamefastnesse
A sacred temple, holding her a goddesse.
G. Chapman.

Preferment sildome graceth Bashfulnesse.
Idem.

Let sobernesse be still thy wisedomes end,
Admitting what thou canst not comprehend.
I. Syluester. Transl.
Blisse.

These dayes example hath deep written here
Deep written in my heart with yron pen,
That Blisse may not abide in state of mortall men.
Ed. Spencer.

Doth sorrow fret thy soule? ô direfull spirit,
Doth pleasure feed thy heart? ô blessed man.
Hast thou bene happie once? ô heavy plight.
Are thy mishaps forepast? ô happie than:
Or hast thou blisse in eld? ô blisse too late:
But hast thou blisse in youth? ô sweet estate.
E. of O.

— Hard it is
To immitate a false and forged blisse,
Ill may a sad mind forge a mery face,
Nor hath constrained laughter any grace.
G. Chapman.

— Blisse not in height doth dwell.
Idem.

— Quiet Blisse in no state lasteth long.
Assailed still by mischiefe many waies,
Whose spoyling battery glowing hote and strong,
No flowing wealth, no force nor wisdome staies.
Her smoakelesse powder, beaten souldiers slaies.
By open force, foule mischiefe oft prevailes:
By secret sleight, she sild her purpose failes.
I. H. of Magist.

Blessed the man that well can use his blisse.
Ed. Spencer.

We think no greater blisse, then such to be, as be we would,
When blessed none, but such as be, the same, as be they should ▪
V V. V Varner.

Our blisse consists not in possessions,
But in commaunding our affections.
In vertues choyce, and vices needfull chace,
Far from our harts for staining of our face.
Tho. Kid.
Bountie.

O sacred Bountie, mother of content,
Proppe of renowne, nourisher of Arts:
The crowne of hope, the roote of good event,
The trumpe of fame, the ioy of noble hearts,
Grace of the heavens, divinitie in nature,
Whose excellence doth so adorne the creature,
M. Drayton.

— On the other part was to be viewde
His vertues, each one by it selfe it selfe distinct,
Prudence and temperance,, and Fortitude,
And justice, and a fift unto these linckt
So nie, that who with it is not indued?
The rest may seeme blotted, or quite extinct,
Bountie, employed in giving and in spending,
A speciall grace to all the other lending.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Augustus Caesar was not such a Saint,
As Virgill maketh him by his description,
His love of learning scuseth that complaint,
That men might iustly make of his proscription•
Neither the shame that Neroes name doth taint,
Confirmed now by a thousand yeares prescription,
Be e'ne as it is, if he had had the wit,
To have bene franke to such as Poems writ,
Idem.

— This reason is the chiefe,
That wits decay because they want their hire,
For where no succour is, nor no reliefe,
The very beasts will from such place retire.
Idem.

— He is mad and worse,
That plaies the nigard with a Princes purse.
M. Drayton.
Care.

— Another shape appeares
Of greedy Care still brushing up the knees,
His knuckles knobd, his flesh deep dented in:
With tawed hands, and hardy tanned skin,
The morrow gray no sooner hath begun
To spred his light, even peeping in our eies,
When he is up and to his worke yrunne,
But let the nights black mistie mantels rise,
And with foule darke never so much disguise
The faire bright day, yet ceaseth he no where,
But hath his candles to prolong his toyle.
M. Sackuill.

Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent,
No better had he, ne for better carde:
With blistered hands among the cynders brent,
And fingers filthy, with long nayles unpared,
Right for to rend the food on which he fared.
His name was Care; a black Smyth by his trade:
That neither day nor night from working spared.
But to small purpose yron wedges made,
Those be unquiet thoughts, that woful minds inuade.
Ed. Spencer.

Care keepes his watch in every olde mans eye,
And where Care lodges, sleepe will never lie:
But where unbruized youth with unstuft braine
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleepe doth raine.
W. Shakespeare.

Care and suspition are faire Bewties dower.
M. Drayton.

Care the consuming canker of the minde,
The discord that disorders sweet-hearts tune,
Th'abortive bastard of a coward minde,
The lightfoote lackie that runnes poste by death,
Bearing the leters which containe our end:
The busie aduocate that sells his breath,
Denouncing worst to him is most his frend,
H. Constable.
Charitie.

•he was a woman in the freshest age,
Of wondrous bewtie, and of bowntie rare,
With goodly grace, and comely personage,
That was on earth not easie to compare,
•ull of great love; But Cupids wanton snare
As hel she hated, chaste in worke and will,
Her necke and brest were ever open bare,
That aye thereof her babes might sucke their fill,
The rest was all in yealow robes araied still.
A multitude of babes about her hung,
Playing their sportes that ioyed her to behold,
Whom still she fed, while they were weake and yoong,
But thrust them forth still as they waxed old,
And on her head she wore a tyre of gold:
Adorned with Gems and Owches wondrous faire,
Whose passing price unneath was to be told,
And by her side there sate a gentle paire
Of Turtle-doves, she sitting in an juorie chaire,
Ed. Spencer.

Due Charitie in loving doth preferre,
Her neighbours good, fore her utilitie.
I. Syluister. Transl.

Who may but will not helpe, doth hurt we know, and curious they,
That dribling alms by art, disband wel mēt frō wel done pay,
And he that questions distresse and doth not help endevour,
Thē he that sees & nothing saies, or cares is lesse deceavour ▪
W. Warner.

It is a worke of Charitie God knowes,
The reconcilement of two mortall foes.
Ch. Middleton.

— Charitie brings forrh but barren seeds,
And hatred still is sowne in so great store,
That when the fruites of both came to be reaped,
The tone is scarce, the tother overheaped.
S. I. Harr.
Chastitie.

O Chastitie the chiefe of heavenly lights,
Which makest us most immortall shape to wear•,
S. Ph. Sidney.

— Chastities attire,
The unstained vaile which innocents adorne,
Th'ungathered rose defended with the thorne.
S. Daniel.

O Charitie, the gift of blessed soules,
Comfort in death, a crowne unto the life:
Which all the passions of the minde controlles,
Adornes the maide, and bewtifies the wife,
That grace, the which nor death, nor time attaints.
Of earthly creatures making heavenly Saints.
M. Drayton.

— A Woman cannot take upon her,
With bewtie, riches, nor with hie nobilitie,
To claime the true deserued praise of honour,
If Chastitie do faile by her fragilitie,
This is the vertue that defends her honour.
S, I. Harrington.

Who doth desire that chaste his wife should bee,
First be he true, for truth doth truth deserue,
Then he be such as he his words may see,
And alwaies one credit, which her preserue
Not toying kind, nor causlesly unkinde.
Not stirring thoughts, nor yet denying right,
Not spying faults, nor in plaine errors blinde,
Never •ard hand, nor ever raines to light,
As farre from want, as farre from vaine exspence:
Th'one doth enforce, th'other doth entice,
All owe good company, but drive from thence
All filthy mouthes that glory in their vice.
This done, thou hast no more, but leave the rest
To nature, fortune, time, and womans brest.
S. Ph. Sydney.

Penelope in spending chaste her daies,
As worthy as Vlisses was of praise.
S. I. Harrington.
Of Christ.

The brooser of the serpents head, the womans promized seed
The second in the Trinitie, the foode our soules to feed.
The vine the light, the doore the way, the shepheard of us al,
Whose manhood joind to deitie, did raunsome us from thrall
That was and is, and evermore will be the same to his,
That sleeps to none, that wakes to him, that turns our curse to blis,
Whō yet unseen the Patriarks saw, the Prophets had foretold
The Apostles preacht, the Saints adord, & Martyrs do behold
The same (Augustus Emperor) in Palestine was born
Amōgst his own, & yet his own did curse their blis in scorn,
W. Warner.

Augustus quailing Anthonie, was Emperour alone,
In whose unfoed monarchy our common health was knowne
The bruizer of the serpents head, the womans promisd seed
The second in the Trinitie, the foode our soules to feede.
The vine the light, the doore the way, the shepheard of us all,
The same (Augustus Emperor) in Palestine was borne,
Amōgst his own, & yet his own did curse their blis in scorn
Idem.
Children.

Riches of children passe a princes throne,
Which touch the fathers heart with secret ioy.
When without shame he saith, these be mine owne.
S. Ph. Sidney.

This patterne good or ill our children get,
For what they see, their parents love or hate,
Their first caught sence prefers to teachers blowes,
The cockerings cockerd, we bewaile too late,
When that we see our ofspring gayly bent,
Women man-wood, and men effeminate.
Idem.

— What children apprehend,
The same they like, they followe and amend.
D. Lodge.

There is no love may be compa'rd to that,
The tender mother beares unto the childe,
For even so much the roote it doth encrease,
As their griefe growes, our contentation cease.
G. Gas.
Chaunge.

All is but fained, and which oaker died,
That every showre will wash and wipe away,
All things do Chaunge that under heaven abide,
And after death, all friendship doth decay,
Therefore what ever man bearest worldly sway
Living, on God and on thy selfe thy selfe relie,
For when thou diest, all shall with thee die.
Ed. Spencer.

All suffer Chaunge, our selues our selues new borne even then begin to die.
W. Warner.

— The ever Chaunging course of things,
Runne a perpetuall circle, ever turning.
S. Dan.

Change lives not long, time fainteth, and time mourns,
Solace and sorrow have their certaine turnes.
M. Drayton.

All Chaunge is perillous, and all chaunce unsound.
Ed. Spencer.

— Seldome Chaunge the better brought,
Content who lives with tried state,
Need feare no Chaunge of frowning Fate:
But will seeke for unknowne gaine,
Oft lives by losse, and leaves with paine.
Idem.

What doth remaine to man that can continue long?
What sun cāshine so cleare, but clouds may rise amōg?
G. Gascoigne.

No flower is so fresh, but frost can it deface,
No man so snre in any seate, but he may loose his place
Idem.

Most true it is, as we doo daily prove.
No good nor ill, can stand still at one stay.
S. I. Harrington.

The man that of himselfe is most secure,
Shall finde himselfe most fickle and unsure.
Ed. Spencer.

Men change the ayre, but seldome change their care.
M. Drayton.
Chaunce.

What should we thinke of signes? they are but haps,
How may they then be signes of after-claps?
Doth every Chaunce foreshew, or cause some other?
Or ending of it selfe it selfe, extend no further?
As th'overflowing flood some mount doth choake,
But to his guide, some othet flood it yoake,
So if that signes thy sinnes once joine, beware
Else-whereto Chaunces tend do never care.
M. of M.

True it is if fortune light by Chaunce,
There fortune healpes the boldest to aduance.
G. Gascoigne.
Counsaile.

Sacred Counsaile, true heart suppling balme,
Soule-curing plaister, true preseruing blis,
Water of life in every sudden qualme,
The heavens rich store-house, where all treasure is.
True guide, by whom foule errors dve we mis,
Night burning-beacon watch, against mishaps,
Foresight, avoyding many after claps,
M. Drayton.

— Euery strawe proves fewell to the fire,
When Counsell doth concurre with our desire.
Idem.

What eld hath tried and seeene good counsell is.
D. Lodge.

— Counsell still is one.
When fathers, friends, and worldly goods are gone.
Idem.

Counsell that comes when ill hath done his worst,
Blesseth our ill, but makes our good accurst.
M. Drayton.

Vaine sounds of pleasure we delight to heare ▪
But Counsell iarres as discord in our eare.
Idem.

A King that aimes his neighbours crowne to win,
Before the fruite of open warres begin,
Corrupts his Counsell, with rich recompences,
For in good Counsell stands the strength of Princes.
I. Syl. Transl.

A Kingdomes greatnesse hardly can he sway,
That wholsome Counsell did not first obey.
M. Dr.

Euen as by culling fruitefull Vines encrease,
So faithfull counsailes worke a Princes peace.
D. Lodge.
Concord.

— Concord,
Mother of blessed peace and friendship true,
They both her twins, both borne of heavenly seed,
The which her words divine right well do shewe,
For strength and wealth, and happinesse she lendes,
And strife, and warre and anger does subdue,
Of little, much, of foes she maketh frendes,
And to afflicted mindes, sweet rest and quiet sends.
Ed. Spencer.

The richest jewell of all heavenly treasure,
That ever yet unto the earth was showne,
Is perfect Concord, th'onely perfect pleasure,
That wretched earth-borne men have ever knowne ▪
For many hearts it doth compound in one,
That what so one doth, will, or speake, or doo,
With one consent, they all agree there too.
I. Davies.

By her the heaven is in his course containd,
And all the world in state unmoved stands:
As their almightie maker first ordaind,
And bound them with inuiolable bands,
Else would the waters overflowe the lands,
And fire devoure the water, and hell them quite,
But she them holds with her all-blessed hands,
She is the nurse of pleasure and delight
And unto Princes grace the gates doth open right.
Ed. Spencer.

O blessed concord bred in secret brest
Of him that guides the restlesse rolling skie:
That to the earth for mans assured rest,
From height of heavens vouchsafest once to flie:
In thee alone the mightie power doth lie.
With sweet accord to keep the frowne starres,
And every Planet els from hurtfull warres.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.

When tract of time returnes the lustie Ver,
By thee alone the buds and blossomes spring:
The fields with flowers be garnish• eu'ry where,
The blooming trees aboundant leaves do bring,
The cheerfull birds melodiously do sing.
Thou doest appoint the crop of sommers seed
For mans reliefe, to serue his winter need.
Idem.
Conscience.

— Within the ports and iawes of hell,
Sate deep remorse of Conscience, all besprent
With teares: and to her selfe her selfe oft would she tell
Her wretchednes, and cursing never stent
To sob and sigh, but ever thus lament
With thoughtfull care, as she that all in vaine
Would were and wast continually in paine:
Her eyes unstedfast rolling in her head:
Whurld on ech place, as place that vengeance broght,
So was her mind continually in feare,
Tossed and tormented with tedious thought
Of those detested crimes which she had wrought.
With dreadfull lookes and cheare throwne to the skie,
Wishing for death, and yet she could not die.
M. Sackuill.

So gnawes the griefe of Conscience evermore,
And in the heart it is so deeply grave
That they may neither sleepe nor rest therefore:
Ne thinke one thought, but on the dread they have,
Sill to the death sore tosled with the wave
Of restlesse woe, in terror and dispaire
They lead a life continually in feare.
Idem.

The feare of Conscience entreth yron walles.
M. Drayton.

No armour proofe against the Conscience terror.
Idem.

A guiltie conscience never is secure,
Idem.


No meanes at all to hide
Man from himself can find
No way to start aside,
Out from the hell of mind,
But in himself confinde,
He still sees sin before,

And winged footed paine
That swiftly comes behind
The which is evermore
The sure and certain gaine
Impietie doth get,
And wanton boast respect,
That doth himselfe forget.
S. Daniell.

Like to the Deare that striken with the dart
Withdrawes himselfe into some secret place,
And feeling griefe the wound about his hart,
Startles with pangs till he fall on the grasse,
And in great feare lies gasping there a space.
Forth braying sighes, as though each pang had brought
The present death which he doth dread so oft.
So we deep wounded with the bloudy thought
And gnawing worme that greeved our conscience so,
Never tooke ease but as our heart out brought:
The strained sighes in witnesse of our wo.
Such restlesse cares our fault do well be know,
Wherewith with our deserued fall, the feares,
In every place rang death within our eares.
M. Sackuill.

— Loose Conscience is free
From all Conscience what els hath libertie:
As't pleasd the Thracian Boreas to blow,
So turnes our weary Conscience too and fro.
I. Marston.

Kings but the Conscience all things can defend.
M. Drayton.

Whē as thou feelest thy cōscience toucht with greefe,
Thy selfe Thy selfe pursues thy selfe thy selfe, both robd, and theefe.
Idem.

— Many with the Conscience of the crime
•n colder blood will curse what they designde:
And bad successe upbraiding their ill fact,
Drawes them, that others draw from such an act.
S. Daniell.
Craft. Deceit. Fraud.

What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,
As to descry the craftie cunning traine
By which Deceit doth maske in vizard faire:
And cast her colours died deep in graine,
To seeme like truth, whose shape she well can faine,
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame,
The guiltlesse mind with guile to entertaine.
Ed. Spencer.

Fraud showd in comely cloathes a lovely looke,
An humble cast of eye, a sober pace:
And so sweet speech, a man might her have tooke
For him that said haile Mary full of grace:
But all the rest deformedly did looke,
As full of filthinesse and foule disgrace:
Hid under long large garments that she ware,
Vnder the which, a poysoned knife she bare.
S. I. H.

Oft Craft can cause the man to make a seeming show
Of hart, with dolor all distaind, where grief doth neve• grow ▪
S. T. B.

— Craft wrapt still in many comberments,
With all her cunning thrives not though it speed.
S. Daniell.

Craft findes a key to open every doore.
M. Dr.
Conquest.

Who hopes a conquest, leaves no conquest sought.
M. Drayton.

Tis much to conquer, but to keep possession
Is full as much, and if it be not more.
I. Syluester. tran•

To win the field against our armed foes,
Is counted honourable any waies,
Whether it be with pollicie or blowes:
Yet bloodie conquēst staines the Captaines praise.
But chiefest honour doth belong to those
Whom fortune to such height of hap doth raise,
To have their foes supprest and overthrowne,
With little losse and daring of their owne.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Whereas proud conquest keepeth all in awe,
Kings oft are forst in seruile yoakes to drawe.
M. Drayton.
Country, common-weale.

We must affect our Country as our parents,
And if at any time we alienate
Our love or industry from doing it honor,
It must respect effects and touch the soule,
Matter of conscience and religion,
And not desire of rule or benefit.
G. Peele.

Necessitie enforceth every wight,
To love his native seat with all his might.
A happie quarrell is it and a good,
For countries cause to spend our dearest blood.
G. Gascoigne.

That publike weale must needs to rvine go,
Where private profit is preferred so.
G. Geffrayes.

Home though it homely be, yet is sweet,
And native soyle is best.
S. I. Harr.

If so the temperature of Common-weale
Be guided by the course of heavenly powers,
Such as in deep affaires will iustly deale,
Must have an eye to those eternall bowres,
And by their view direct this state of ours.
Then how can he a perfect states man prove,
That knowes not how celestiall bodies move?
Th. Stover.

— The love
That men their country and their birth-right beare,
Exceeds all love, and dearer is by farre:
Our countries love, thē friends or children are.
T. Kyd.
Content.

All wealth and wisedome rests in true Content.
Contentment is our heaven, and all our deeds
Bound in that circle, seld or never closde.
G. Chapman.

Who seekes to have the thing we call enough,
Acquaint himselfe with Contentation:
For plenteousnesse is but a naked name:
And what sufficeth use of mortall men,
Shall best apay the meane and modest harts.
G. Gascoigne.

The noblest mind the best contentment hath.
Ed. Spencer.

High climing wits do catch a sudden fall,
With none of these Content doth dwell withall.
D. Lodge.

Content feeds not on glory nor on pelfe.
Cōtent can be contented with her selfe her selfe.
Th. Bastard.

Cōtent is worth a monarchy, and mischief hits the hie.
W. Warner.

Who so contented lives, is happie wise.
D. Lodge.

Inconstant change such tickle turnes hath lent,
As who so feares to fall, must seeke Content.
Deprive the world of perfect discontent.
All glories end, true honour strait is stained:
And life it selfe it selfe in errors course is spent.
All toyle doth sort but to a sory end,
For through mislikes each learnes for to amend.
D. Lodge.

He only lives most happily
That's free and farre from maiestie:
Can live content, although unknowne:
He fearing none, none fearing him:
Medling with nothing but his owne,
While gazing eyes at crownes grow dim.
Th. Kyd.
Courage.

— To Courage great
It is no lesse beseeming well to beare,
The storme of fortunes frowne, or heavens threat,
Then in the sun-shine of her countenance cleare,
Timely to ioy and carry comely cheare.
Ed. Spencer.

High Courage with true wisedome ever backt,
Winnes perfect fame.
Th. Lodge.

Nere was there ever noble courage seene,
That in aduantage would his pvissance boast,
Honor is least where ods appeareth most.
Ed. Spencer.

Where is no courage, there is no ruth nor mone.
Idem.

Good hart in ill, doth th' evil much amend.
Idem.

Courage imboldneth wit, wit courage armes.
M. Drayton.

They make their fortune who are stout and wise,
Wit rules the heavens, discretion guides the skies.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Action is fiery valou•s soverainge good.
G. Chapman.

No foote to foe Repining courage yeelds.
Ed. Spencer.

Then are the valiant who more vaine, then cowardes who more wise,
Not men that travell Pegasus, but fortunes fooles do rise?
W Warner.

Be valiant, not too ventrous, but fight to fight againe,
Euen Hercules did hold it ods, for one to strive with twaine.
Idem.

Might wanting measure, moveth surquedrie.
Ed. Spencer.

— More is he that ventureth for more,
Then who fights but for what he had before.
S. Daniell.

— Valour mixt with feare, boldeneth dread,
May march more circumspect with better heed.
Idem.

Valour in greatest daungers shewes most bright.
As full-fac't Phoebe in the darkest night.
Ch. Fitz Geffrey.

The Spartanes once exilde Archilochus,
The Author of Lycambes Tragedie,
Because he said it was commodious,
Rather to cast away his shield and flie,
Then boldly to resist, and bravely die.
Idem.
Court.

The Princes Court is mansion of the wise.
Figure of heaven, faire fountaine of delights,
Theater of honours, earthly paradice,
Sudden aduancer, Spheare of purest light,
The lively Vatican of bewties bright.
Thither let Phoebus progenie resort,
Where shines their father, but in joves great Court?
Th. Storer.

— This is ever proper unto Courts,
That nothing can be done but fame reports.
S. Daniell.

To censure is the subiect of the Court,
From thence fame carries, thither fame doth bring,
There too each word, a thousand ecchoes ring,
A Lotterie, where most loose, but fewe do winne.
M. Drayton.

Nothing in Court is done without a fee,
The Courtier needs must recompenced bee.
E. Sp.

Most miserable man, whom wicked fate
Hath brought to Court to sve for, had I wist,
That fewe hath found, but many one hath mist.
Idem.

— The Court is counted Venus net,
Where gifts and vows, forestalls are often set:
None be so chaste as Vesta, but shall meere,
A curteous tongue, to charme her eates with sweete.
R. Greene.

— The Court hath much of vanitie and painfull ease.
W. V Varner.

— The Court is now become a skittish colte,
Of wise men hardlier man aged then of the glorious dolt,
Idem.

These all deformities in forme in some one man we see,
More garded then regarded, franke not to continue free,
Whē as the merchāts booke, the map of all his wealth shalbe.
Idem.

Sometimes the courts of kings were vertuous schooles,
Now finde we nought in Court, but curious fooles.
O you whose noble hearts cannot accord,
To be the the slaves to an infamous Lord,
And knowes not how to mixe with perillous art,
The deadly poyson with the amorous dart,
Whose natures being found, wills no constraint,
Nor will your face with flattering pensill paint.
For weele nor woe, for pitie nor for hire,
Of good my Lords their favours to require,
Goe not to Court, if ye will me beleeve,
For in that place where ye thinke to releeve:
The honour dve fot vertue yee shall finde,
Nought but contempt which leaves good men behind.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

The wanton luxurie of Court,
Doth forme the people of like sort.
S. Daniell.

Ye worthy dames that in your breasts do beare,
Of your all-seeing god, no seruile feare:
Ye that of honour have a greater care,
Then sights of Courts, I pray you come not there,
Let them that in their purse have not a mite,
Cloathe them like Kings, and play the Hypocrite,
And with a lying tale and fained cheare,
Court-coozen them whom they would see on beare,
Let there the Pandar sell his wife for gaine,
With seruice vile, his noblesse to attaine:
Let him that serues the time, chaunge his intent,
With faith unconstant saile at every vent.
Th. Hudsrn. Transl.

The Court was never barren yet of those
Which could with subtill traine, and hard aduise,
Worke on the Princes weakenes and dispose,
Of feeble frailtie easiest to entice.
S. Daniell.

Golden cuppes do harbor poyson,
And the greatest pompe dissembling,
Court of seasoned words hath foyson
Treason haunts in most dissembling.
D. Lodge.

Ye fearefull wits, ye impes of Achelous,
Which wracks the wisest youth with charming voice,
Ye Circes, who by your enchauntment strange,
In stones and swine, your Lovers true doo change:
Ye Stymphalids, who with your youth uptakes,
Ye Ravens that from us our riches takes.
Ye who with riches, art, and painted face,
For Priams wife puts Castor's sister in place.
Ye Myrrhaes, Canaces, and Semyrames,
And if there were yet moe defamed dames,
Come all to Court, and there ye shall receive
A thousand gaines, unmeete for you to have,
There shall you see the gifts of great provinces,
There shall you see the grace of gracelesse Princes.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Courtiers as the tide do rise and fall.
Ed. Spencer.

— It doth not sit
With Courtiers maiestie to be reputed
Too learned, too grave, too fine, or too conceited.
Thomas Stover.

Who full of wealth and honours blandishment,
Among great Lords his yoonger yeares hath spent,
And quaffing deeply of the Court delights,
Vsde nought but tilts, armours, and maskes, and sights,
If in his age his Princes angry doome,
With deepe disgrace, daine him to live at home
In homely cottage, where continually
The bitter smoake exhales aboundantly,
From his before unsorrowe-drained braine,
The brackish vapours of a siluer raine,
Where usher lesse both day and night the North,
South East, and West windes enter and go forth.
Where round about the lower roofte-broke walles,
In stead of Arras, hang with Spider calles:
Where all at once he reacheth as he stands,
With brows the roofe, both walls with both his hands.
He weepes and sighes, and shunning comforts aye,
Wisheth pale death a thousand times a day,
And yet at length falling to worke, is glad
To bite a browne crust that the mouse hath had,
And in a dish, in stead of Plate or glasse,
Sups oaten drinke, in stead of Hypocrasse.
I. Syluister.
Courtesie.

Of Court it seemes, men Courtesie do call,
For that it there most useth to abound,
And well beseemeth that in Princes hall,
That vertue should be plentifully found.
Which of all goodly manners is the ground,
And roote of civill conuersation.
Ed. Spencer.

Mongst vertues all growes not a fairer flower,
Then is the bloome of comely Courtesie,
Which though it on a lowely stalke do bower,
Yet brauncheth forth in brave nobilitie,
And spreads it selfe it selfe through all civilitie:
Of which though present age doo plentious seeme,
Yet being matcht with plaine antiquitie,
Ye will them all but fained shewes esteeme,
Which carry colours faire, which feeble eies misdeem.
Idem.

— In the triall of true Courtesie,
Its now so farre from that which once it was,
That it indeed is nought but forgerie,
Fashioned to please the eyes of them that passe,
Which see not perfect things but in a glasse,
Yet is that glasse so gay, it cannot blinde
The wisest sight, to thinke that gold is brasse.
But vertues seate is deepe within the minde,
And not in outward shew, but inward thoughts defind.
Idem.

— This noble vertue and divine,
Doth chiefly make a man so rare and odde,
As in that one, they most resemble God.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— Courteous speech usage milde and kinde,
Wipes malice out of every noble minde.
S. I. Harrington.

— Courtesie ofttimes in simple bowers,
Is found as great, as in the stately towers.
Idem.

Tis meete a gentle heart should ever showe
By Courtesie, the fruites of true gentilitie,
Which will by practice, to an habit growe,
And make men do the same with great facilitie.
Likewise, the dunghill-blood a man shall know
By churlish parts, and acts of incivilitie,
Whose nature apt to take each lewde infection,
Custome confirmes, and makes ill in perfection.
Idem.
Crueltie.

All lay on hands to punish Crueltie.
M. Drayton.

— Cruell deeds can never scape the scourge
Of open shame, or else some bloody death,
Repentance selfe, that other sinnes may purge,
Doth flie from this, so sore the soule it sleieth,
Dispaire dissolues the cruell caitiffes breath,
For vengeance dve doth suddenly alight
On cruell deeds, the mischiefe to requite.
I. H. Mir. of M.
Custome.

Round headed Custome th'apoplexie is,
Of bedrid nature, and lives led amis,
And takes away all feeling of offence.
G. Chapman.

Custome abusd brings vertue in disdaine.
Nature with Custome joined, never failes
But by her selfe her selfe, and her selfe her selfe prevailes.
D. Lodge.

Whereas to nature, forward to retaine,
Lewde obiects are annext, and Customes vaine,
The wounds grow desperate, and death doth •nd,
Before good counsell can the fault amend.
Idem.

Custome the worlds iudgement doth blind so farre,
That vertue is oft arraigned at vices barre.
I. Syl. Transl.
Danger.

— Danger cloathed in ragged weede,
Made of beares skinne, that him more dreadfull, made,
Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did neede
Strange horror to deforme his grisly shade,
A net in th'one hand, and a rustie blade
•n th'other was, this mischiefe, that mishap
With th'one, his foes he threatned to inuade,
•or whom he could not kill, he practised to intrap.
Ed. Spencer.

Danger hath honour, great designes their fame.
S. Dan.

The greatest daungers promise greatest blisse.
M. Drayton.

Danger deviseth shifts, wit waits on feare.
W. Shakespeare.

Daunger's the chiefest ioy to happinesse,
And resolution honours fairest ayme,
Ch. Marlowe.

The path is smooth that leadeth unto Daunger.
W. Sh.

When as we thinke we most in safetie stand,
The greatest daunger then, is neare at hand.
M. Drayton.

The Daunger hid, the place unknowne and wilde,
Breeds dreadfull doubts: oft fire is without smoake,
And perill without shewe.
Ed. Spencer.

Ay-me, how many perills do enfolde
The righteous man, to make him daily fall:
Were not that heauēly grace did him behold,
And steadfast truth acquite him out of all.
Idem.

A thousand perills lie in close awaite,
About us daily to worke our decay,
That none except a god, or god his guide,
May them avoyd, or remedie provide.
Idem.

In perill, we do thinke our selues our selues most sure,
And oft in death some men are most secure.
No Danger but in hie estate, none enuies mean degre•
V V. Warner.

— Daungerous things dissembled sildome are,
Which many eyes attend with busie care.
M. Drayton.

The absent danger greater still appeares,
Lesse feares he, who is neare the thing he feares.
Most strong is he when daungers are at hand,
That lives prepard 'their furies to withstand.
Of common sence he is deprived cleane,
That falles with closed eyes on daunger seene:
And he that may both paine and hurt eschue,
Is vaine, if he his proper death pursue.
S. Daniell.
Dread.

Next sawe we Dread, all trembling how he shooke,
With foote uncertaine profered here and there:
Benumbd of speech, and with a gastly looke,
Searcht every place, all pale and dead for feare:
His cap borne up with staring of his haire.
Stoynd and amazed at his owne shade for dread,
And feeling greater daungers then was need.
M. Sackuill.

— Coward Dread lackes order, feare wants art,
Deafe to attend, commaunded, or defirde.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.
Death.

— A dumbe dead course we •awe,
Heavy and cold the shape of death aright,
That daunts all earthly creatures to his lawes
Against whose force in vaine it i• to fight,
Ne Peeres, ne Princes, nor no mortall wight,
No Townes, ne Realmes, Cities ne strongest Tower,
But all perforce must yeeld unto his power.
His dart anon out of his corpes he tooke,
And in his hand (a needfull fight to see)
With great tryumph eftsoones the same he shooke:
That most of all my feares affraied me,
His body dight with nought but bones perdie.
The naked shape of man there sawe I plaine,
All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vaine.
M. Sackuill.

Death is a port, whereby we passe to ioy,
Life is a lake, that drowneth all in paine:
Death is so neare it ceaseth all annoy.
Life is so leaud, that all it yeelds is vaine.
And as by life to bondage man was brought,
Euen so likewise by death was freedome wrought.
E. of Surrey.

Nought is immortall underneath the Sun,
All things are subiect to deaths tyrannie:
Both clownes & kings, one selfesame one selfesameone selfesame course must run,
And whatsoever lives is sure to die.
Th. Kyd.

Death's alwaies readie, and our time is knowne
To be at heavens dispose, and not our owne.
Idem.

The bravest are as blossomes, and the longest liver dies:
And dead, the loveliest creature as the lothsoms carion lies.
W. Warner.

Our frailties done are written in the flowers,
Which flourish now, and fade away ere many howres.
S. Daniell.

— All earthly things be borne
To die the death, for nought long time may last:
The sunne his beautie yeelds to winters blast.
I. H. M. of Magist.

Is't not gods deed what ever thing is done,
In heaven and earth? Did not he all create
To die againe? all ends that was begunne:
Their times, in his eternall bookes of fate,
Are written sure, and have their certaine date.
Who then can strive with strong necessitie,
That holds the world in his still chaunging state?
Or shun the death ordaind by desteny,
When houre of death is come, let none aske whence or why.
Ed. Spencer.

— Death amongst all deales equally,
For hee's impartiall, and with one selfe one selfe hand
Cuts off both good and bad, none can withstand.
Ch. Middleton.

Death certaine is to all the proverbe saith:
Vncertaine is to all the houre of death.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Pale fearefull death with bloudy dart doth strike,
The wretched caitiffe and the king alike.
Vntimely never comes the lifes last meere,
In cradle death may rightly claime his debt,
Straight after birth, is dve the fatall beere:
By deaths permission th'aged linger heere.
Euen in the swath-bands our commission goeth,
To loose thy breath, that yet but yoongly bleweth.
I. H. Mir. of M.

All musicke sleepes where death doth lead the daunce.
Ed. Spencer.

Let nature for perfection mould a paragon each way,
Yet death at last on finest lumps of living flesh wil pray
For nature never framed it, that never shall decay.
W. Warner.

— Fatall death the emperor of graves.
I. Markham.

Death is the key which unlockes miserie,
And lets them out to blessed libertie.
M. Drayton.

All is but lost that living we bestowed,
If not well ended at our dying day.
O man have mind of that last bitter rage,
For as the tree doth fall, so lies it ever lowe:
Ed. Spencer.

No feare of death should force us to do ill.
Th. Kyd.

— When for feare of an ensuing ill
We seeke to shorten our appointed race,
Then tis for feare that we our selues our selues do kill:
So fond we are to feare the worlds disgrace.
Idem.

Happie, thrice happie, who so lost his breath,
That life he gaineth, by his godly death.
Vnwise and wretched men to weet whats good or ill,
We deeme of death as doome of ill desert:
But know we fooles what it us brings untill:
Die would we daily once it too expert.
No danger there the shepheard can a start,
Faire fields and pleasant fields there beene,
The fields aye fresh, the grasse aye greene.
Ed. Spencer.

— This same
Which we call death, the soules release from woe,
The worke which bring our blisse to happie frame:
Sildome arrests the bodie, but we finde
Some notice of it written in our minde.
I. Markham.

The worth of all men by their end esteeme,
And then dve praise, or dve reproach them yeeld.
S. Spencer.

— Death is an evill doome.
To good and bad, the common Inne of rest,
But after death the triall is to come
When best shall be to them that lived best,
But both alike when death hath both supprest.
Religious reverence doth buriall teene,
Which who so wants, wants so much of his rest.
For all so great shame after death I weene,
As selfe to dien bad, unburied, bad to beene.
Ed. Spencer.

— Beasts with carelesse steppes to laethe go,
Where men whose thoughts and honours clime on hie,
Living with fame, must learne with fame to die.
D. Lodge.

Death but an acted passion doth appeare,
Where truth gives courage and the conscience cleare.
M. Drayton.

Who dies, the utmost dolour must abide:
But who that lives, is left to waile his losse,
So life is losse, and death felicitie.
Sad life worse then glad death, and greater crosse
To see friends grave, then dead, the grave selfe to engrosse.
Ed. Spencer.

— In wretches sudden death at once
There long-some ill is buried with their bones.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Death is to him that wretched life doth lead
Both grace and gaine; but he in hell doth lie
That lives a loathed life, and wishing cannot die.
Ed. Spencer.

Death is most lovely sweet and amiable:
But captived life for foulenesse admirable.
I. Marston.

— The toongs of dying men
Inforce attention like deep harmony,
Where words are scarce, they are sildom spent in vaine:
For they breath truth, that breath their words in paine.
He that no more must say, is lissened more,
Then they whom youth & ease have taught to glose:
More are mens ends markt, then their lives before.
The setting sunne and musick at the close,
As the last tast of sweet is sweetest tast,
Writ in remembrance more, then things long past.
W. Shakespeare.
Delaie.

On the one side doubt, on the other sate Delaie,
Behind the gate, that none her might espie;
Whose manner was, all passengers to staie,
And entertaine with her occasions slie.
Through which, some lost great hope unheedilie,
Which never they recover might againe:
And others quite excluded forth did lie.
Long languishing there, in unpittied paine,
And seeking often entrance afterward in vaine.
Ed. Spencer.

— Daunger growes by lingring till the last,
And phisicke hath no helpe when life is past.
Th. Watson.

— Oft things done, perhaps, do lesse annoy
Then may the doing, handeled with delay.
S. Daniell.

Delaie in close awaite
Caught hold on me, and thought my steps to stay,
Faining stil, many a fond excuse, to prate:
And time, to steale the treasure of mans day,
Whose smallest minute lost, no riches render may.
Ed. Spencer.

— Times delay new hope of helpe still breeds.
Idem.

— Fearfull tormenting
Is leaden seruitor, to dull delay.
W. Shakespeare.

He that will stop the brooke must then begin
When sommers heat hath dried up the spring:
And when his pittering streames are low and thin ▪
For let the winter aid unto them bring,
He growes to be of watry flouds the king:
And though you damme him up with loftie rankes,
Yet will he quickly overflow his bankes.
R. Greene.

Ill newes deferring, is a plague as great as an ill newes.
Ab. Fraunce.

Delay in love breeds doubts, but sharpe deniall death·
W. Shakespeare.

— Intermission suffers men dispute,
What dangers are, and cast with further care,
Colde doubt cavells with honour, scorneth fame,
And in the end feare waighes downe faith with shame ▪
S. Daniel.

Where hearts be knit, what helpes if not in ioy?
Delay breeds doubts, no cunning to be ioy.
M. D.
Delight.

In things without us, no Delight is sure·
G. Chapman.

A sweete in shape is but a bad Delight.
D. Lodge.

Prosperitie a flatterer is found,
Delight is fearelesse till it feele the wound.
M. D.
Vid. Pleasure.
Desire.

— Desire, whom not the firmament,
Nor aire, nor earth, nor Ocean can content,
Whose lookes are hookes, whose bellies bottomlesse,
Whose hands are gripes to scrape with greedines,
Vnder whose command,
She brings to field a rough unruly band,
First, secret burning, mightie swoln ambition,
Whom Epicurus many worlds suffice not,
Whose furious thirst of proud aspiring dies not,
Whose hands transported with phantasticke passion,
Beare painted steeples in imaginaton.
I. Syluister. Transl.

Amongst the most, the worst, we best can chuse,
Tis easie to desire, but hard to use.
M. Drayton.

Desire hath philters, which desire procure.
Idem.

If blinde desire thy heart hath once embraced,
Inthralled it is, and honour so defaced.
. ˙. ˙

Desire with small encouraging growes bolde.
M. Drayton.

What can be said that Lovers cannot say?
Desire can make a Doctor in a day.
Idem.

Things much retained, do make us much desire them,
And bewties seldome seene, makes us admire them.
Idem.
Destinie.

Sad Clotho held the rocke, the whiles the thrid
By grisly Lachesis, was spunne with paine,
That cruell Atropos eft-soones undid,
With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine,
Most wretched mē, whose daies depēdonthrids so vain.
E. of S.

The holy Prophet brought Astolpho, where
A Pallace (seldome seene by mortall men)
Was plac't, by which, a thicke darke river ran,
Each roome therein was full of divers fleeces:
Of Wolle, of Lint of Woll, or else of Cotten,
An aged woman spunne the divers peeces.
Whose looke and hue did shew her old and rotten,
Nor much unlike unto that labour this is.
By which in sommer a new made silke is gotten,
Where from the silke-wormes his fine garment taking,
They reave him of the cloathes of his owne making.
For first in one large roome a woman span,
Infinite thrids of divers stuffe and hew,
An other doth wi•h all the speed she can,
With other stuffe the distaffe still renew:
The thrid in feature like, and pale and wan,
Severs the faire f•om foule, the olde from new.
Who be these here, the Duke demaunds his guide?
These be the fatall sisters he replide:
The Parcaes that the thrid of life do spin
To mortall men, hence death and nature, knowe
When life must end, and when it must begin.
Now she that doth devide them, and bestow
The course from finer, and the thick from thin
Workes to that kinde, that those which finest grow,
For ornaments in Paradice must dwell.
The course are curst, to be consumed in hell.
Further, the Duke did in the place behold,
That when the thrids were spent that had bene spunne
Theit names in brasse, in siluer, and in gold
Were wrote, and so into great heapes were donne.
From which, a man that seemed wondrous old
With whole loades of those names away did runne,
And turned againe as fast, the way he went,
Nor never weary was, nor never spent.
This aged man did hold his pace so swift,
As though to runne, he had bene onely borne,
And in the lappet of his cloake were borne
The names, &c. This was time.
An heape of names within his cloake he bore,
And in the river did them all unlade:
Or to say truth, away he cast them all,
Into this streame, which Laethe we do call.
S. I. Harr. Transl.
Vide. Fame.

— You sad daughters of the quiet night,
Which in your private resolution wright,
What hath, or shall upon our fortunes light,
Whose stories none may see, much lesse recite;
You rulers of the Gods.
I. Markham.

Downe in the bottome of the deepe Abisse,
Where Demogorgon in dull darknesse p•nt,
Far from the view of Gods, or heavens blisse,
The hidious Chaos, there dreadfull dwelling is.
Ed. Spencer.

What man can turne the streame of Destenie?
Or breake the chaine of strong necessitie?
Which fast is tide to jones eternall seate?
Idem.

— What shalbe shall. There is no choice,
Things needs must drive as Destenie decreeth:
For which we ought in all our haps reioyce,
Because the eye eternall, things foreseeth:
Which to no ill at any time agreeth,
For ills, too ill to us, be good to it,
So farre his skill exceeds, our reache of wit.
I. H. Mir. of M.

Woe worth the wight that strives with Gods foresight
They are not wise, but wickedly do erre,
Which thinke ill deeds dve destenies may barre.
Idem.

No hūble speech nor mone, may move the fixed stint.
Of Destinie or death: such is the will that paints
The earth with colours fresh, yeye darkish skies with store
Of Starry light.
Ed. Spencer.

Walls may a while keepe out an enemie,
But never castle kept out destinie.
M. Drayton.

— Who can deceive his destinie?
Or weene by warning to avoyd his fate?
That when he sleepes in most securitie,
And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate,
And findeth dve effect, or soone, or late,
So feeble is the power of fleshly arme.
Ed. Spencer.

— That which jove and Destinie have done,
Men may lament, but never disanull.
Ch. Fitz.
vide fate.
Dispaire.

Ere long they came where that same wicked wight
His dwelling has, lowe in a hollowe Cave,
Farre underneathe a craggy clift upright,
Darke, dolefull, drery, like a drery grave,
That still for carion carkasses doth crave.
On top whereof, aye dwells the ghastly Owle,
Shriking his balefull note, which ever drave
Farre from that haunt, all other chearefull fowle.
And all about it wandring ghostes do waile and houle ▪
And all about olde stockes and stubs of trees,
Whereas, nor fruite, nor leafe was ever seene,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky trees,
On which had many witches hanged beene,
Whose carkasses were scattered on the greene,
And throwne about the cliffes.
Ed. Spencer.

That darkesome cave they enter, where they finde
That cursed man, lowe sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullen minde:
Hi• grisly locks, long growne and unbound,
Disordered hung about his shoulders round
And hid his face; through which his hollowe eies
Lookt deadly, dull, and stared as astound.
His rawebone cheekes through penurie and pine,
Were shrunke into his iawes, as he did never dine,
His garment nought but many ragged clouts,
With thornes together pind and patched was,
The which his naked sides he wraps abouts.
And him beside, there lay upon the grasse,
Adrery coarse, whose life away did passe,
All wallowed in his owne, yet luke-warme blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh a lasse.
In which a rustie knife fast fixed stood,
And made an open passage for the gushing flood.
Idem.

Me thought by night, a grisly ghost in darke I sawe,
Eke ever still to me with stealing steps she drew,
•he was of colour pale, and deadly hew,
Her clothes resembled thousand kinds of thrall,
And pictures plaine of hastned deaths withall.
I. H. Mir. of M.

— Dispaire
The factor for improvident restraint.
I. Markeham.

— Dispaire, that deepe disdained elfe,
Delightlesse lives, still stabbing of her selfe her selfe.
D. Lodge.

— As it is not lawfull for a man
At such a Kings departure or decease,
To leave the place, and falsifie his faith,
So in this place we ought not to surrender
That deerer part, till heaven it selfe it selfe commaund it.
For as they lent us life to do us pleasure,
So looke they for returne of such a treasure.
Th. Kyd.

Farre greater folly is it for to kill
Themselues dispairing, then is any ill.
I. H. M. of M.

Be resolute, not desperate, the Gods that made thee poore,
Can if they will (do wait their will) thy former state rest•••
W. Warner.

— When last need to desperation driveth
Who dareth the most, wisest counsell giveth.
S. I. Harrington.

We may in warre sometime take truce with foes,
But in Dispaire, we cannot with our woes.
M. Drayton.

Dispaire hath ever daunger all contemned.
Idem
Divell.

Hells prince, sly parent of revolts, and lies.
I. Syluister.

O ruthlesse murderer of immortall soules,
A lasse, to pull us from the happie poales,
And plunge us headlong in the yawning hell,
Thy ceaselesse fraudes and fetches who can tell?
Thou playest the Lyon when thou doost ingage,
Blood-thirstie Neroes barbarous heart with rage,
While flesht in murders, butcherlike he paints
The Saint-poore world, with the dear blood of Saints ▪
Thou plaiest the dog, when by the mouth prophane,
Of some false Prophets thou doest belch thy bane.
Where from the Pulpet barkingly he rings,
Bold blasphemies against the King of Kings.
Thou plaiest the swine when plunged in pleasures vile,
Some Epicure doth sober mindes defile,
Transforming lewdly by his loose impietie,
Sweete Lacedemon to a soft societie.
Thou plaiest the Nightingale, or else the swan,
When any famous Rhetorician
With captious wit, and curious language drawes,
Seduced hearers, and subuerts the lawes.
Thou playest the foxe when thou doest faine aright.
The face and phrase of some deepe Hypocrite.
True painted tombe, dead seeming cole, but quicke,
A scorpion fell, whose hidden taile doth pricke:
Yet this were little, if thy spight audacious,
Spared (at the least) the face of angels gracious,
And if thou didst not apely immitate
Th'almighties workes, the wariest wits to mate.
I. Syl. Transl.

The ghostly enemie doth not stay,
Till tempted persons do obay.
Yeeld to him, he a Lyon is,
Gaine stood a flie, his pray doth mis.
Ignoto.

A subtill Pandar with more inticing rights,
Then sea hath fish, or heaven hath twinckling lights.
I. Syl.

As a false Lover that thicke snares hath laide,
To entrap th'honour of a faire yoong maide,
When she (though listening) litle eare affords,
To his sweete courting deepe affected words,
Feares some asswaging of his freezing flame,
And soothes himselfe with hope to gaine his game,
And wrapt with ioy upon this point persists,
That parlying cittie never long resists.
Euen so the serpent that doth counterfet
A guilefull call to allure us to his net:
Perceiving Eue his flattering gloze disgest,
He prosecutes, and iocund doth not rest,
Till he have tried foote, hand, head and all,
Vpon the breach of this new battered wall.
I. Syl. Transl.
Discord.

Hard by the gates of hell her dwelling is,
There where as all the plagues and harmes abound ▪
Which punish wicked men that walke amis.
It is a darkesome delue, far under ground,
And thornes which barren brookes inuirond roun•
That none the same may easily out win,
Yet many waies to enter may be found,
But none to issue forth when one is in,
For Discord harder is to end then to begin.
Ed. Spencer.

Ate, mother of debate
And all dissention which doth daily grow
Amongst fraile men, that many a publike state
And many a private oft it doth ore•unne.
Idem.

— He knew her weed of sundry hew,
Patched with infinit unequall lists,
Her skin in sundry naked places view,
At divers rents and cuts he may that lists:
Her haire was gray, and red, and black and blew,
And hard and soft, in laces some she twists:
Some hangeth downe, upright some standeth staring,
As if each haire with other had bene squaring.
Her lap was full of writs and of citations,
Of processes, of actions, and arrests,
Of bills, of answeres, and of replications,
Greeving the simple sort with great vexations.
She had resorting to her as her guests
Attending on her circuits and her iournies,
Suters and Clarkes, Lawiers, and Atturnies.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Her face most foule and filthy was to see,
With squinted eyes contrariwise intended:
And loathly mouthed, unmeet a mouth to bee.
That nought but gall and venome comprehended,
•nd wicked words that God and man offended.
Her lying tongue was in two parts divided,
•nd both the parts did speak, and both contended:
•nd as her tongue so was her heart descided.
That never thought on them, but doubly still was guided
Ed. Spencer.

All like as drops ingender mightie flouds,
And little seeds sprout forth great leaves and buds:
Euen so small strifes if they be suffered runne,
Breed wrath and warre, and death ere they be donne.
M. of Magist.

Concord in kingdomes is great assurance,
And royall fame lies do never fall:
But where discord doth lead the doubtfull dance,
With busie brawles, and termes of variance,
Where malice minstrell is, the pipe ill report,
The mask mischiefe, and so doth end the sport.,
Idem.

Fire-brand of hell first tinde in Phlegeton,
By thousand suries, and from thence outthrowne
Into this world, to worke confusion,
And set it all on fire by force unknowne,
Is wicked discord; whose small sparkes once blowne,
None but a God or godlike man can slake:
Such as was Orpheus, that when strife was growne
Amongst those famous Imps of Greece, did take
His siluer harp in hand, & shortly friends them mak•
Ed. Spencer.

O cruell discord, food of deadly hate,
O mortall corsive to a common-weale:
Death-lingring consumption to a state,
A poysoned sore that never salue could heale.
O soule contagion, deadly killing fever,
Infecting oft, but •o be cured never.
M. Drayton.

A state divided, cannot firmly stand:
Two Kings within one realm could never rest.
T. Kyd.
Dissimulation.

— Fierce lightening from her eies
Did set on fier faire Heroes sacrifice:
Which was her torne robe and inforced haire,
And the bright flame became a maid most faire
For her aspect; her tresses were of wire,
Knit like a net, where harts all set on fire,
Struggled in pants and could not get releast:
Her armes were all with golden pincers drest,
And twentie fashioned knots, pullies and brakes,
And all her body girdled with printed snakes.
Her downe parts in a scorpion taile combinde,
Freckled with twenty colours p•edwings shinde
Out of her shoulders; cloth did never die,
Nor sweeter colours ever viewed eie.
In scorching Turkey, Cares, Tartarie:
Then shinde about this spirit notorious,
Nor was Arachnes web so glorious.
Of lightning and of shreds she was begot,
More hold in base dissemblers is there not.
Her name was Eronusis.
G. Chapman.

The colours of dissemblance and deceit,
Were died deep in graine, to seeme like truth.
Ed. Spencer.

Better a wretch then a dissembler.
E. Gilpin.

— Commonly in dissimulations
Th'excesse of glavering doth guile ••tect,
Reason refuseth falshood to direct.
The will therefore for feare of being spied,
Exceedeth meane, because it wanteth guide.
M. of M.

— Commonly all that counterfeit
In any thing, exceed the naturall meane,
And that for feare of fa••ing in their feat.
Idem.

The lovely lookes, the sighes that storme so sore,
The dve of deep dissembling doublenesse:
These may attempt, but are of power no more,
Where beautie leanes to wit and soothfastnesse.
D. Lodge.

— Who hath to doo
With deep dissemblers, must dissemble too.
Ch. Middleton.
Vid. Hypocrisie.
End.

— The End doth alwaies prove the fact,
By End we iudge the meaning of the act.
S. I. H. Transl.

Begin where lightnesse wil, in shame it ends.
G. Chapman.
Earth.

Thus whilest he laid his head upon her lap,
She in a fiery mantle doth him wrap:
And carries him up from his lumpish mould,
Into the skies whereas he might behold
Th'earth in perfect roundnesse of a ball,
Exceeding globes most artificiall.
Which in a fixed point nature disposed,
And with the sundry elements inclosed.
Which as the Center, permanent doth stay,
When as the skies in their diurnall sway:
Strongly maintaine the everturning course,
Forced alone by their first movers source.
Where he beholds the aiery regions,
Whereas the clouds and strange impressions
Maintaind by coldnesse often do appeare:
And by the highest region of the aire
Vnto the clearest element of fire,
Which to her siluer footstoole doth appeere.
M. Drayton.

The Moone is darkned to all creatures eies,
Whilest in the shadow of the earth she lies:
For that the earth of nature cold and drie,
A very Chaos of obscuritie:
Whose globe exceeds her compasse by degrees,
Fixed upon her superficies.
When in his shadow she doth hap to fall,
Doth cause her darknes to be generall.
Idem.

— Earth
Beares all her sonnes and daughters in one wombe,
She Europes, Ameriques, Affriques, Asians toombe.
Idem.

— Earth cannot comprehend
The secret depths of iudgements all divine,
Where is no ground beginning, midst nor fine.
I. Syluester. Transl.

O trustlesse state of earthly things, and slipper hope
Of mortall men, that swinke and worke for nought:
And shooting wide, doth misse the marked scope.
Now have I turnd (a lesson dearly bought)
That nis on earth assurance to be sought.
Ed. Spencer.

A narrow roome our glory vaine unties,
A little circle doth our pride containe:
Earth like an Ile amid the water lies,
Which sea sometime is cald, sometime the maine.
Yet nought therein resounds a name so great,
It's but a lake, a pond, a marish street.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Our mother earth nere glories in her frute,
Till by the sunne clad in her tinsell sute:
Nor doth she ever stare him in the face,
Till in her glorious armes she him imbrace.
Which proves she hath a soule, sence, and delight,
Of generation, feeling, appetite.
M. Drayton.

To know our selues our selues to come of humane birth,
These sad afflictions crosse us here on earth.
A taske imposde by heavens eternall lawe,
To keepe our rude rebellions well in awe.
M. Drayton.

Next unto him, malicious Enuie rode,
Vpon a ravenous Wolfe, and still did chawe
Betweene his cankred teeth a venomous tode,
That all the poyson ranne about his iawe.
But inwardly he chawed his owne mawe
At neighbours wealth, that made him ever sad,
For death it was when any good he sawe,
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had,
But when he heard of harme, he waxed wondrous glad.
Ed. Spencer.

The other held a snake with venome fraught,
On which she fed and gnawed hungerly:
As if that long she had not eaten ought,
That round about the iawes we might discry
The bloody gore, and poyson dropping loathsomly.
Her name was Enuie, knowne well thereby,
Whose nature is to greeve and grudge at all
That she sees done praise worthily:
Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall,
And vexeth so, that makes her eate her gall:
For when she wanteth other thing to eate,
She feedes on her owne ma• unnaturall.
And of her owne foule entrailes make her meate,
Meate fit for such a monsters monstrous diet.
Idem.

I chaunced on a monster of a man,
With health heart sicke, sterued with store of foode,
With riches poore, with beautie pale and wan,
Wretched with happinesse, evil with good.
One eye did enuie at the th'other eie:
Because the other enuide more then hee,
His hands did fight for the first iniurie,
So Enuie enuide, enuide to be.
And as he went, his tender foote was sore,
And enuide at the foote that went before.
Th. Bastard.

This monster honors hurt, is like the curre
That barkes at strangers comming at the durre.
But sparing alwaies those are to her knowne,
To them most gentle, to the others throwne.
This monster als is like a raving cloude,
Which threatens alwaies kindly Vulcan loude
To smore and drowne him with her powring raine,
Yet force of fire repels his force againe.
K. of S.

Oft malice makes the mind to shed the boyled brine,
And enuies humor oft unlades, by conduits of the eine.
T. W.

Enuy lives with us whilst our selues our selues suruive,
But when we die, it is no more alive.
Ch. Fitz jeffry.

The knottie Oake and wainscot old,
Within doth eate the silly worme,
Euen so a mind in enuy cold,
Alwaies within it selfe it selfe doth burne.
Idem.

Each sence may common subiects comprehend,
Things excellent the sensitive confound:
The eye with light and colours may contend:
The care endure the note of common sound
Both faile, when glorious beames and strokes abound ▪
So Enuy that at meanest things beares spight,
Stands mute at view of unexspected height.
Th. Storer.

— Enuy harboureth most in feeblest brest.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Fell enuies cloud, still dimmeth vertues ray.
Ed. Spencer.

Foule enuie, thou the partiall iudge of right,
Sonne of deceit, borne of that harlot hate:
Nursed in hell, a vile and ugly sprite,
Feeding on slaunder, cherisht with debate,
Never contented with thine owne estate:
Deeming alike, the wicked and the good,
Whose words be gall, whose actions end in blood.
M. Drayton.

Enuie doth cease, wanting to feede upon.
Idem.

Like as the poyze that would the palme represse
Doth cause the bowes spread larger round about:
So spite and enuie causeth glory sprout,
And aye the more the top is overtroad,
The deeper doth the same roote spread abroad.
M. of M.

Sicilian Tyrants yet did never finde
Then Enuie, greater torment of the minde.
Idem.

Our dayes are stampt in Enuies mint,
And this our age cast in the Iron mold,
Our hearts are hewed out of Cancasean flint,
And two leaved plates of brasse our brest enfold,
Hate waxeth yoong, the world thus waxing old,
And best we like them, that do us love the least,
And least we love them, whom we should like best.
Ch. Fitz Geffrey.
Error.

— His gliste•ing armour made
A little glooming light, much like a shade:
By which she saw the ugly monster plaine,
Halfe like a serpent, horribly displaied,
But th'other halfe did womans shape retaine,
Most loathsome, filthy, foule, and full of vile disdaine.
And as she lay upon the dyrtie ground,
Her huge long taile, her den all overspred,
Yet was in knots, and many bouts upwound:
Pointed with mortall sting: of her there bred
A thousand yoong ones, which she daily fed,
Sucking upon her poysoned dugges, each one
Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill savoured.
Soone as the uncouth light upon them shone,
Into her mouth they crept, and suddenly were gone.
Ed. Spencer.

To erre is proper unto men, and but brutish to persist ▪
W. Warner.

— Errors are no errors, but by fate,
For oft the event makes foule faults fortunate.
S. Daniell.

— Errors left unpunisht, are profest,
And being not defended, are opprest.
Ch. Middleton.

To heare good counsell, error never loves.
D. Lodge.

— Errors are hardly moved,
That love doth breed in an unaduised brest.
S. I. H. Transl.

A stony coldnesse hath benumbde the sence,
And lively spirits of each living wight,
And dimed with darknesse their intelligence,
Darkenes more then Cymerians day by night,
And monsters Error flying in the aire,
Hath mared the face of all that seemeth faire.
Ed. Spencer.
Faith.

— Fidelia
Like sunny beames threw forth her christall face,
That could have mazde the r•rest beholders sight,
And roūd about her head did shine like heavens light
She was araied all in Lilly white,
And in her right hand bare a Cup of Gold,
With wine and water filld up to the height.
In which a serpent did himselfe infold,
That horror made to all that did behold,
But she nowhit did change her constant minde.
And in her other hand, she full did hold,
A booke that was both signd and seald with bloud.
Ed. Spencer.

Faith sits triumphant on a coach of gold,
Of Tuballs worke, where costly Saphires shine,
Rich Diamonds, and many Rubies fine,
And if ought else, the worke more costly hold,
This glorious chariots rowling wheeles are like
The holy wheeles the great Ezechiel sawe,
For owne selfe owne selfe spirit, selfe winde and will doth drawe,
Their restesse courses equall both alike,
The bird that led the Romaine standerds out
The bird that fixed can oppose his eies,
Against the greatest light in all the skies,
High through the ayre drawes this rich Coach about.
Faith flaunts it not in siluer nor in gold.
Nor precious scarlet of the Tyrian die:
Nor paints her face to hide deformitie,
But as she is, she doth her selfe her selfe unfolde,
Her body that all bodies doth disgrace,
Like junoes bird is full of watching eies,
Whose holy glaunces pierce the loftie skies,
Pierce the hie heavens, and see God face to face.
She hath great store of flowing tongues to praise
The Lord of hoastes: she hath most mightie wings,
(Passing the swiftnes of all mortall things)
That in a moment up to heaven her raise,
Her glorious head is compast with a crowne
Nor made of Olive, pine, or Lawrell bowe,
Nor Parsly wreath which Graecians did allowe.
Th' olympian gaimes for signalls of renowne,
But of fresh Roses pluckt from honours tree,
That never shrinke for winters chilling frost,
Nor wither not when Titan hotely tostes,
But by the Lord for ever watered bee.
I. Syl. Transl.

Faith friendly porter of heavens Christall hold,
Conduct us straight before the throne of gold:
O• Gods great grace, there prostrate on her knee,
Doth praier speake in name of all the three.
I. S. Transl.

What was the world before the world? or God ere he was God
Why this he did, or doth not that, this biddē or forbod:
I dare not thinke, or arrogate such misteries divine,
Faith with her wits significant suffice these wits of mine:
To love God and our neighbours as our selfe our selfe is all in fine.
W. Warner.

Drawe thy forces all unto thy hart,
The strongest fortresse of this earthly part:
And on these three, let thy assurance lie,
On faith, hope, and humilitie.
M. Drayton.

Faith is thy Fort, thy shield, thy stronger aide,
Never controlled, nere yeelded, ne dismaide:
Which doth dilate, unfold, foretell, expresseth,
Which gives rewards, inuesteth and possesseth.
Idem.

Faith hath not onely power on things terrene
Both hie, and lowe, but oftentimes doth force
Gods iustice too, and sometimes seemes perforce,
Gods purposes to change and alter cleane.
I. Syl.

— The hardest things faith makes most possible.
Idem.

— Euen the faithfull flocks are like the ground,
That for good fruite, with weedes will still abound:
If that the share and coulter idle lie,
That rives the share, and rootes the brambles bie.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Adde faith unto your force, and be not faint.
Ed. Spencer.

Onely faith doth iustifie say we, of Gods free grace,
By Christ, nor faith is idle, but doth charitie embrace.
W. Warner.
Fame.

A monster swifter none is under sunne.
Encreasing as in waters we discrie,
The circles small of nothing that begin,
Which at the length, unto such breadth do come,
That of a drop which from the skies do fall,
The circles spread, and hide the waters all.
So Fame in flight encreasing more and more,
For at the first, she is not scarcely knowne,
But by and by she flits from shore to shore,
To clouds from th' earth, her stature straight is growne
There whatsoever by her trumpe is blowne,
The sound that both by sea and land out-flies,
Rebounds againe, and verberates the skies:
They say, the earth that first the Giants bred,
For anger that the Gods did them dispatch,
Brought forth this sister of those monsters dead,
Full light of foote, swift wings, the winds to catch,
Such monster erst did nature never hatch.
As many plumes she hath as top to toe,
So many eyes them underneath or moe:
And tongues do speake: so many eares do harke,
By night tweene heaven she flies and earthly shade,
And shreaking takes no quiet sleepe by darke,
On houses roofes, or towers as keeper made,
She fits by day, and cities threates to inuade,
And as she tells what things she sees by view,
She rather shewes that's fained false, then true,
I. H. Mir. of M.

Fame in a stoale of purple set with eies,
And eares, and tongues, caried a golden booke,
Vpon the cover, this I sawe engraved.
Pauci quos aequus amavit
jupiter, aut ardeus everit ad aethera virtus
Dijs geniti.
G. Peele.

Fame with golden wings aloft doth flie,
Above the reach of rvinous decay,
And with brave plumes doth beate the ayrie skie,
Admired of base borne men, from far away.
Ed. Spencer.

The Brazen Trompe of Iron winged fame,
That mingleth truth with forged lies.
E. Fairfax. Transl.

Then came they to the foule and loathsome lake,
Darke, deepe, and mirie, of a dreadfull hue,
Where was the aged man that never stinted
To carrie bundles of the names imprinted.
This was the man, whom (as I told before)
Nature and custome so swift of foote had made,
He never rested, but ran evermore.
And with his comming he did use this trade:
A heape of names within his cloake he bare,
And in the River did them all unlade:
Or to (say truth) away he cast them all,
Into this streame which Laethe we do call.
This prodigall old wrerch no sooner came
Vnto this cursed rivers barren banke,
But desperately without all feare of blame,
Or caring to deserue reward or thanke,
He hurled therein full many a precious name,
Where millions soone into the bottome sanke:
Hardly in every thousand one was found,
That was not in the gulfe quite lost and dround:
Yet all about great store of birds there flew,
As vultures, carren crowes, and chattering pies,
And many moe of sundrie kinds and hew,
Making leaude harmonie with their loude cries,
These when the carelesse wretch the treasure threw
Into the streame, did all they could devise,
What with their tallents some, and some with beake
To save these names, but find themselues too weake.
For ever as they thought themselues to raise,
To beare away those names of good renowne,
The waight of them, so heavie downeward waies,
They in the streame were driven to cast them downe,
Onely two swans sustained so great a paize
In spight of him that sought them all to drowne,
These two did still take up whose names they list,
And bare them safe away, and never mist.
Sometime all under the foule lake they dived,
And tooke up some that were with water covered:
And those that seemed condemned, they reprived.
And often as about the banke they hovered,
They caught them, ere they to the streame arrived,
Then went they with the names they had recovered,
Vp to a hill that stood the water nie,
On which a stately Church was bvilt on hie.
This place is sacred to immortall fame,
And evermore a Nimph stands at the gate,
And tooke the names wherewith the two swans came,
Whether they early come, or whether late.
Then all about the Church she hanged the same,
Before that sacred Image in such rate,
As they might then well be assured for ever,
Spight of that wretch, in safetie to persever.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Fame on his right hand in a roabe of gold,
Whose stately traine, Time as her page did beare:
On which for rich imbroydery was enrold,
The deeds of all the Worthies ever were:
So strongly wrought as wrong could not impaire,
Whose large memorialls she did still reherse,
In Poets man immortallizing verse.
Two tablets on her goodly brest she bore,
The one of Christall, the other Ebonie,
Engraved with names of all that lived before
That; the faire booke of heavenly memorie:
Th'other, the base scrowle of Infamie.
One stuft with Poets, Saints, and Conquerors,
Th'other, with Atheists, Tyrants, Vsurers,
And in her word appeared as a wonder,
Her daring force, and never failing might:
Which softly spake farre off, as't were a thunder,
And round about the world would take their flight,
And bring the most obscured things to light.
That still the farther off, the greater still,
Did ever sound our good, or make our ill.
M. Drayton.

Her dwelling is betwixt the earth and skies,
Her Turret unto heaven her top upreares:
The windowes made of Lynceus piercing eies,
And all the walles be made of daintiest eares,
Where every thing that's done in earth appeares.
No word is whispered in this vaultie round,
But in her pallace straitwaies it doth sound:
The rafters, trumpets which do rend the aire,
Sounding aloud each name that thither comes.
The chinkes like tongues of all things talking heere,
And all things past, in memorie do beare.
The doores unlocke with every word man saith,
And opens wide with every little breath.
It's hung about with armes and conquering spoiles,
The pillers which support the roofe of this,
Are trophies graven with Herculean toiles.
The roofe of garlands, crowne, and ensignes is:
In midst of which a Christall Pyramis,
All over carued with men of most renowne,
Whose base is her faire chaire, the spire her crowne.
Idem.

— Fame
Refuge of hope, the harbinger of truth,
Hand-mayd of heaven vertues skilfull guide,
The life of life, the ages springing youth:
Tryumph of ioy, eternities faire bride,
The virgins glory, and the martyrs pride.
The courages immortall raising fire,
The very height to which great thoughts aspire:
The staire by which men to the starres do clime:
The minds first mover greatnes to expresse,
Faiths armour, and the vanquisher of time.
A pleasant sweet against deaths bitternesse,
The hie reward which doth all labours blesse:
The studie which doth heavenly things impart,
The ioy amidst the tedious waies of art.
Learnings greene lawrell, justice glorious throne,
The Muses chariot, memories true food:
The Poets life, the gods companion,
The fire-reviuing Phaenix sun-nurst brood.
The spirits eternall image, honours good.
The Balsamum which cures the souldiers scarres,
The world, discovering seamens happy starres.
Idem.

A loftie subiect of it selfe it selfe doth bring,
Grave words and waightie, of it selfe it selfe divine:
And makes the authors holy honour shine.
If ye would after ashes live, beware:
To do like Erostrate, who burnt the faire
Ephesian Temple, or to win a name
To make of brasse a cruell calfe untame.
K. of S.

— Incorporeall Fame
Whose waight consists in nothing but her name,
Is swifter then the wind, whose tardy plumes
Are reeking water, and dull earthly fumes.
Ch. Marlowe.

Fame (whereof the world seemes to make such choyce)
Is but an Eccho and an idle voyce.
S. Daniell.

Vnto this Hydra are we subiect still,
Who dares to speake, not caring good or ill.
Better it is without renowne to be,
Then be renownd for vile iniquitie.
K. of K.

— Fame the queene of immortalitie.
Ch. Fitz jeffrey.

Death hath no dart to slay deserued Fame.
Ch. Fitz.

This iealous monster hath a thousand eies,
Her aiery body hath a thousand wings:
Now on the earth, now up to heaven she flies.
And here and there with every wind she flings:
Nothing so secret but to her appeareth,
And apt to credit every thing she heareth.
Foule babling, tell tale, secrets soone bewraier,
The aire bred Eccho, the speaker of lies:
Shrill-sounding trompet, truths unkind betraier.
False larum-bell, awaking dead mens eies.
Fond pratling parrat telling all thou hearest,
Oft furthest off, when as thou shouldst be nearest.
M. Drayton.

The path is set with danger, leads to fame,
When Minos did the Grecians flight denie,
He made him wings and mounted through the skie.
Idem.

Still fame wil grow if once abroad it flie,
Whether it be a troth, or be a lie.
Idem.

Fame doth explore what lies most secret hidden,
Entring the closet of the pallace dweller,
A broad revealing what i• forbidden,
Of truth and falshood both an equall teller,
Tis not a guard can serue for to expell her:
The sword of iustice cannot cut her wings,
Nor stoppe her mouth from uttering secret things.
S. Daniell.

Celestiall goddesse ever-living fame,
Mineruaes daughter by faire Maias sonne,
Of all th'inhabitants of heavens faire frame:
Most highly honored since the world begunne,
And shall be till the fatall glasse be runne.
Soules sweet receit, the healths restorative:
Hearts cordiall, the minds preseruative.
Goddesse of thoughts, muse animating appetite,
Aulter of honour, simple of renowne,
Shrine of devotion, yeelding art her merite:
Lifes richest treasure, vertues gorgious gowne,
Heavens best abilliment, Ariadnes crowne.
The Cynosura of the purest thought,
Faire Helice, by whom the heart is taught.
Ch. Fitz jeffrey.
Famine.

A grisly shape of Famine might we see,
With greedy lookes and gaping mouth that cride
And would torment as she should there have dide:
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left nought but the case alone:
And that alas was gnawne on every where,
All full of holes, that I ne mought refraine
From teares to see how she her armes could teare,
And with her teeth gnash on her bones in vaine,
When all for nought she faine would so sustaine
Her staruen corps, that rather seemed a shade,
Then any substance of a creature made.
Great was her force, whom stone walles could not stay,
Her tearing nayles snatching at all she sawe:
With gaping iawes, that by no meanes y may
Be satisfied from hunger of her mawe,
But eates her selfe her selfe, as she that hath no lawe:
Gnawing alas her carkas all in vaine,
While you may count each sinew, bone and vaine:
On her, while we thus firmly fixt our eie,
That bled for •uth of such a drery sight,
Lo suddenly she shrikte in so huge wise,
As made hell gates to shiver with the might:
Where with a dart we sawe how it did light
Right on his brest, and therewithall pale death
Enthrilling it, to reave her of her breath.
M. Sackuile.

Meane cates are welcome still to hungry guests.
B. joh.
Fancie.

Fancie we feele includes all passions might.
S. Phil. Sydney.

Fancie by kind, with reason striveth still.
Th. Watson.
— Vid. love
Fate.

What God hath said, that cannot but ensue,
Though all the world would have it overthrowne:
When men suppose by fetches of their owne
To flie their Fate, they further on the same,
Like blasts of winde, which oft reviue the flame.
M. of M.

The heavens do rule in their continuall course,
That yeelds to Fate, that doth not yeeld to force.
M. Drayton.

Chaunce is uncertaine, fortune double faced.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

— Demogorgon ruler of the Fates.
R. Greene.

— The Fates can make
Waie for themselues, their purpose to pertake.
Ed. Spencer.

— What the Fates do once decree,
Not all the gods can chaunge, nor jove himself can free.
Idem.

— The lawes of Fate
Being grau'n in steele, must stand inuiolate.
Th. Dekkar.

Who can escape what his owne Fate hath wrought,
The work of heavens wil, surpasse all humane thought.
Ed. Spencer.

— Who can deceive his destenie?
Or weene by warning to avoid his Fate?
That when he sleepes in more securitie
And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate,
And findeth dve effect, or soone or late
So feeble is the power of fleshly arme.
Idem.

— Indeed the Fates are firme,
And may not shrinke though all the word do shake:
Yet ought mens good endevours them confirme,
And guide the heavenly causes to their cōstant terme.
Idem.

Each man they say his Fate hath in his hands,
And what he makes or marres to leese or save,
Of good or evil, is even selfe do, selfe have.
I. H. M. of M.

The Fates farre off, foreseene come gently neare.
M. Drayton.

Our Fate is not prevented though fore-knowne,
For that must hap decreed by heavenly powers,
Who worke our fall, yet make the fault still ours.
S. Daniell.

— Fate
Keeps in eternall darke our fortunes hidden,
And ere they come to know them, tis forbidden.
Idem.

All men are men in ignorance of Fate,
To alter chance, exceedeth humane state.
I. Markham.

The heavens do rule in their continuall course,
That yeelds to Fate, that doth not yeeld to force.
M. Drayton.
Feare.

— Feare all armed from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feared each shadow moving too and fro,
And his owne armes whom glistering he did spie,
Or clashing heard, he fast away did flie
As ashes pale of hew, and winghie heeld,
And evermore on danger fixt his eie,
Gainst whom he alwaies bent a brazen sheeld,
Which his right hand unarmed faithfully did weeld.
Ed. Spencer.

Who so for fickle feare from vertue shrinkes,
Shall in his life imbrace no worthy thing,
No mortall man the cup of suretie drinkes.
S. Phil. Sid.

Feare is more paine then is the paine it feares,
Disarming humane minds of native might:
Where each conceit an ugly figure beares,
Which were not evil, well viewd in reasons light.
Idem.

The gift being great, the feare doth still exceed,
And extreame feare can neither fight nor flie,
But cowardlike with trembling terror die.
W. Shakespeare.

The feare of ill, exceeds the ill we feare.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Feare lendeth wings to aged folke to flie,
And made them mount to places that were hie.
Feare made the wofull child to waile and weepe,
For want of speed, on foote and hands to creepe.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Feare in a fearefull heart, frets more then plagues that he feareth.
A. Fraunce.

Feare that is wiser then the truth doth ill.
S. D.

Feare casts too deepe, and never is too wise.
Idem.

In vaine with terror is he fortified,
That is not guarded with firme love beside.
Idem.

A fearefull thing to tumble from a throne.
M. Drayton.

Where crowned might, & crossed right so near togither dwel
Behoves that forrest flying feare whereof the Foxe doth tel,
Our factious Lancaster & Yorke, thereof could witnes wel.
W. Warner.

Thunder affrights the Infants in the schooles,
And threatnings are the conquerors of fooles.
I. Markham.

Whom feare constraines to praise their Princes deeds,
That feare eternall, hatted in them feeds.
R. Greene.

Feare misinterprets things, each angury
The worser way he fondly doth imply.
Weaknes is false, and faith in cowards rare,
Feare findes our shifts, timitidie is subtill.
S. Daniell.

Tis incident to those whom many feare,
Many to them more greevous hate to beare.
M. Drayton.

— He whom all men feare,
Feareth all men every where:
(Hate inforcing them thereto)
Maketh many undertake
Many things they would not do.
Th. Kyd.

The only good that growes of passed feare,
Is to be wise, and ware of like againe.
Ed. Spencer.

A man to feare a womans moodie eire,
Makes reason lie a slave to seruile feare.
S. Ph. Sydney.

Nothing seene fearefull, we the most should feare,
Great amistes rise before the greatest raine:
The water deepest, where we least murmure heare,
In fairest Cups men temper deadliest baine.
The nearer night, the ayre more cleare and still,
The nearer to one deaths, least fearing ill.
M. Drayton.

— Bloodlesse, trustlesse, witlesse feare,
That like an Aspen tree, trembles each where,
She leads blacke terror, and blacke clownish shame,
And drowsie sloth that counterfeiteth lame,
With snailelike motion measuring the ground.
Foule sluggish drone, barren (but sinne to breed)
Diseased begger, sterued with wilfull need.
I. S. Transl.

The feare of evill doth affright us more,
Then th' evill it selfe it selfe, though it seeme nere so sore.
Fortitude.

Rich buskind Seneca, that did declaime
And first in Rome our tragicke pompe compile,
Saith Fortitude is that, which in extreame,
And certaine hazard all base feare exile.
It guides saith he, the noble minde from farre,
Through frost and fire, to conquer honours warre.
I. Markham.

Honey tonged Tully Marmaid of our eares,
Affirmes, no force can force true Fortitude:
It with out bodies no communion beares.
The soule and spirit, soly it doth include.
It is that part of honestie, which reares
The heart to heaven, and ever doth obtrude,
Faint feare and doubt, still taking his delight
In pe•ills, which exceed all perils might.
Patience, perseverance, greatnes, and strong trust,
These Pages are to Fortitude their King:
Patience that suffers, and esteemeth iust,
What ever we for vertue fortunes brine.
Perseverance holds constant what we must,
Greatnes that effects the guilded thing,
And armed trust which never can dispaire,
And hopes good happe how ever fatall deare.
Idem.

The man that hath of Fortitude and might,
And thereto hath a Kingdome voyd withall,
Except he also guide himselfe aright,
His power and strength prevaileth but a small,
He cannot scape at length, an haplesse fall.
I. H. M. of M.

The Romaine Sergius having lost his hand,
Slew with one hand foure in a single fight,
A thing all reason ever did withstand,
But that bright Fortitude spreads forth her light.
Pompey by shore held from th'Italian Land,
And all his saylors quaking in his sight,
First hoysed sailes, and cried amidst the strife,
Ther's need I goe, no need to save my life.
I. Markeham.

Force without wisedome, is of little worth.
G. Gascoigne.

Greater force there needs to maintain wrōg thē right.
Ed. Spencer.

Agis that guilt the Lacedemon streete,
Entending one day battaile with his foes,
By counsell was repeld as thing unmeete,
The enemie being ten to one in shoes,
But he replied, tis needfull that his feete
With many heads, should lead to many blowes.
And one being good, an armie is for ten:
Foes to Religion, and knowne naughtie men,
To him that told Dineceus how his foes
Covered the sunne with darts and armed speares.
He made replie, thy newes is ioy in woes,
Wee'le in the shadow fight, and conquer foes.
I. Markham.

— As to love, the life for vertues flame,
Is the iust act of a true noble will:
So to contemne it, and her hopes exclude
Is basenesse, rashnesse, and no Fortitude.
Idem.

Rash Isadas the Lacedemon Lord,
That naked fought against the Theban power,
Although they chained his valour by a cord,
Yet was he finde for rashnes in that hower.
And those which most his carelesse praise afford,
Did most condemne what folly did devoure:
For in attempting, prowesse is not ment,
But wisely doing what we do attempt.
Idem.
Felicitie.

O had Felicitie feeling of woe?
Or could on meane but moderately feede?
Or would looke downe the way that he must goe?
Or could abstaine from what diseases breede?
To stop the wound before to death it bleede?
Warre should not fill Kings pallaces with mone,
Nor perill come, when tis least thought upon.
M. Drayton.
Folly Fooles.

Folly in youth is sinne, in age is madnes.
S. Daniel.

A greater signe of Folly is not showne,
Then trusting others force, distrust our owne:
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— Wicked men repine their sinnes to heare,
And Folly flings, if counsell touch him neare.
D. Lodge.

Faire fooles delight to be accounted wise.
Ch. Marlowe.

Fooles will find fault without the cause discerning.
And argue most of that they have no learning.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— There is a method, time, and place,
Which fooles obseruing do cōmence, ere wise mē have their grace.
W. Warner.

Tis better be a foole then be a foxe,
For Folly is rewarded and respected,
Where subtiltie is hated and reiected.
D. Lodge ▪

— The foolish commmons use
Obey them most, who doth them most abuse.
S. I. Harrington. P.

A witlesse foole may every man him gesse,
That leaves the more, and takes him to the lesse.
G. Gascoigne.
Flatterer.

— Foule leasings and vile flatterie,
Two filthy blots in noble genterie.
Ed. Sp.

When as we finely soothe our owne desires,
Our best conceits do prove the greatest hers.
M. Drayton.

Nere was pretence so foule, but some would flatter it ▪
Nor any thing so pestilent, as misapplied wit.
W. Warner.

To be officious, getteth friends, plaine dealing hated is
Yet better plainly to reprove, then fainedly to kis:
We cannot also love our friends, & Flatter their amis.
Idem.

— Flattery can never want rewards.
D. Lodge.

He twice offends, who sinne in flattery beares,
Yet every houre he dies, who ever feares.
D. Lodge.

The Lords & Ladies over rent, and cunningly the fine,
The Parasite doth overreach, and bears away the gain.
W. Warner.

Yee sonnes of craft bearing as many faces,
As Proteus, takes among the marine places,
And force your natures all the best you can,
To counterfeit the grace of some great man
Chamelion like, who takes him in each hew,
Of blacke or white, or yellow, greene, or blew,
That comes him next, so you that finde the fashion
To hurt the poore, with many a great taxation,
You that do prease to have the princes eare,
To make your names in provinces appeare,
Ye subtill Thurins sell your fumish winde
To wicked wights, whose sences ye do blinde.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Time fawning spaniels, Mermaids on the earth.
Trencher fed flies.
Base Parasites, these elbowe-rubbing mates,
A plague to all lascivious wanton states:
O filthy monkies, vile and beastly kind,
Foule prating Parrats, birds of Harpy brood,
A corasive to every noble minde.
Vipers that sucke your mothers dearest blood:
Mishapen monster, worst of any creature,
A foe to all, an enemie to nature.
M. Drayton.
Fortune.

Fortune as blinde as he whom she doth lead,
Her feature chaunged each minute of the houre,
Her riggish feete fantastickly would tread:
Now would she smile, and suddenly would lowre,
And with one breath, her words are sweete and sowre.
Vpon her foes she amorously doth glaunce,
And on her followers coyly looke askaunce,
About her necke (it seemed as for a chaine)
Some Princes crownes and broken scepters hung.
Vpon her arme a lazie youth did leane,
Which scornfully unto the ground she flung,
And with a wanton grace passing alone,
Great bags of gold from out her bosome drew,
And to base Pesants and fond Idiots threw.
A duskie vale which hid her sightlesse-eies
Like cloudes, which cover our uncertaine lives,
Painted about with bloodie Tragedies,
Fooles wearing crowns and wise men cloged in give•
Now how she gives againe, how she deprives:
In this blacke map this she her might discovers,
In Camps and Courts, on souldiers, and on lovers.
M. Drayton.

A hap, a chaunce, a casuall event,
The vulgars Idoll, and a childish terror:
A what man will, a silly accident
The maske of blindnesse, and disguise of error,
Natures vile nickname, follies foolish mirror:
A terme, a by-word, by tradition learned,
A hearsay, nothing not to be discernd,
A wanton feare, a silly Infants dreame,
A vaine illusion, a meere fantasie:
A seeming shade, a lunaticke mans dreame.
A fond Aenigma, a flat heresie.
Imaginations doting emperie.
A folly in it selfe it selfe, it one selfe one selfe loathing,
A thing that would be, and yet can be nothing.
Disease of time, ambitions concubine:
A minde intrancing snare, a slippery yce,
The bait of death, destructions heady wine.
Vaine-glories patron, the fooles paradice.
Fond hope wherewith confusion doth intice.
A vile seducing f•end, which haunts men still,
To loose them in the errors of their will.
Idem.

O fortune the great Amorite of kings,
Opinions breath, thou Epicurian aire:
Inuention of mans soule, falsest of things,
A step beyond our iudgement, and a staire
Higher then men can reach with reasons wings.
Thou blindfold Archeresse, thou that wilt not heare:
Thou foe to persons, manners, times and all,
That raisest worthlesse, while the worthiest fall.
I. Markham.

Ah fortune, nurse of fooles, poyson of hope,
Fuell of vaine desires, deserts destruction ▪
Supposed soveraigne, through our vaine construction
Princes of Paganisme, roote of impie•ie,
Divell on earth, masked in pietie.
Scorne of the learned, follies elder scholler,
Bastard of time, begot by vaine opinion:
Against thy power, a peevish proud resister.
Mother of lies, and witnesse of illusion:
Lampe of vain-glory, double faced shroe,
Who smiles at first, succesfull, ends in woe.
D. Lodge.

Who wins her grace, must with atchivements wo he•
As she is blind, so never had she eares,
Nor must with puling eloquence go to her:
She understands not sighes, she heares not praiers.
Flattered she flies; controld she ever feares.
And though a while she nicely do forsake it,
She i• a woman, and at length will take it.
Nor ever let him dreame once of a crowne,
For one bad cast that will give up his game,
And though by ill hap he be overthrowne,
Yet let him manage her till she be tame.
M. Drayton.

Fortune the folly is, and plague of those
Which to the world their wretched will dispose.
M. of M.

All flesh is fraile and full of ficklenesse,
Subiect to fortunes charme, still changing new,
What haps to day to me, to morrow may to you.
Ed. Spencer.

Fortune the foe to famous chievisance,
Sildome or never yeelds to vertue aide:
But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischance,
Whereby her course is stopt, and passage laide.
Idem.

Mocke Gods they are, and many Gods induce,
Who fortune faine to father there abuse.
M. of M.

— In vaine do men
The heavens of there fortunes fault accuse,
Syth they know best what is the best for them,
For they to each such fortune do diffuse,
As they do know each can most aptly use:
For not that which men covet most is best,
Nor that thing worst which men do most refuse.
But fittest is, that all contented rest
With that they hold: each hath his fortune in his brest.
Ed. Spencer.

No fortune is so bad, our selues our selues ne frame
There is no chance at all hath us preserued.
There is no fate whom we have need to blame:
There is no desteny but is deserued:
No lucke that leaves us safe, or unpreserued.
Let us not then complaine of fortunes skill,
For all our good descends from Gods good will,
And of our lewdnesse, springeth all our ill.
M. of M.

— They that do dwell on fortunes call,
No sooner rise, but ready are to fall.
D. Lodge.

Looke how much higher fortune doth erect
The climing wight on her unstable wheele:
So much the nigher may a man exspect
To see his head where late he sawe his heele.
Policrates hath proved it in effect,
And Dyonisius that too true did feele
Who long were luld on hie in fortunes lap:
And fell downe suddenly to great mishap.
On th'other side, the more man is oppressed
And utterly overthrowne by fortunes lowre,
The sooner comes his state to be redressed,
When wheele shall turn and bring the happie howre.
Some from the Blocke have growne to be so blessed.
Whole realmes have bene subuerted to their powre.
As Marius and Ventidius sample is,
In former age, and Lewes of France in this.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— As the boystrous winde
Doth shake the tops of highest reared towers,
So doth the force of froward fortune strike
The wight that highest sits in haughtie state.
G. Gascoigne.

— So wills the wanton queene of chance,
That each man trace this Labyrinth of life:
With slippery steps now wrongd by fortune strange,
Now drawne by counsell from the maze of strife.
D. Lodge.

We all are proud when fortune favours us,
As if inconstant chaunce were alwaies one:
Or standing now, she would continue thus,
O fooles looke backe, and see the rolling stone
Whereon she blindly lighting sets her foote,
And slightly sowes, that sildome taketh roote.
Th. Kyd.

Fortune the first and last that governes states.
I. Markham.

The blind-fold mistresse of uncertaine chaunge.
D. Lodge.

The wayward lady of this wicked world.
Idem.

Blind fortune faileth mighty ones, & meaner doth aduance.
W. Warner.

Blind fortune findeth none so fit to flout
As Sures by sotts, which cast no kind of doubt.
M. of M.

— Fortune cannot raise
Any one aloft without some others wracke,
Flouds drowne no fields unlesse they finde a bracke.
Idem.

Where power dwelles and riches rest,
False fortune is a comely guest.
E. of S.

Think fortune newly hatcht is fledge, & waggeth wing to flie
All suffer chāge, our selues our selues new born, even then begin to die.
W. Warner.

The man that fortune at commaund will keepe,
He must be sure he never let her sleepe.
M. Drayton.

There never yet was Emperour or King,
Could boast that he had fortune in a string.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— All things to fortune are subiected,
Chiefly in warres, that are by chaunce directed.
Idem.

Wheresoever fortune her bountie will bestow,
There heaven and earth must pay what she doth owe.
M. of M.

The man whose thoughts to fortunes height aspires,
Were better die then live in lowe desires.
Th. Achelly.

Admit thou hadst Pactolian waves to land thee gold at will,
Know Craesus did to Cyrus kneele, and thou maist speed as ill.
W. Warner.

Attempt not things beyond thy reach, joine fortune to thy will,
Least Phebus chaire do els surcharge rash Phaethon his skill
Idem.

If fortune help whō thou woldst hurt, fret not at it the more,
When Aiax stormed, then from him the prize Vlisses bore.
Idem.

Good fortune drawes from heaven her descent,
Making hie jove the roote of her large tree:
She showes from him how many Godheads went,
Archangels, Angels, heavens posteritie,
From thence she showes the glorious thrid she lent,
To Monarkes, Emperours and Kings in fee.
Annexing as collateralls to her love,
Honour, vertue, valour and endlesse time.
N•thelesse ill fortune will be elder borne
She saith she springs from Saturne, joves wrongd syre,
And heaven and earth, and hell, her coate have borne
Fresh bleeding hearts within a field of fyre:
All that the world admires she makes her scorne,
Who farthest seemes, is to ill fortune neere.
And that iust proofe may her great praise commend,
All that good chaunce begins, ill chaunce doth end.
I. Markham.

Ill fortune is attended by reproach,
Good fortune fame and vertue stellifies.
Idem.

— What man can shun the happe,
That hidden lies, unwares him to surprise:
Misfortune waits aduantage to entrappe
The man most wary, in her whelming lappe.
Ed. Spencer.

The fortune that misfortune doth affoord,
Is for to live and die unfortunate.
Th. Achelly.

Misfortune followeth him that tempteth fortune.
Ch. Fitz jeffrey.
Friendship. Friends.

The naturall affection soone doth cease,
And quenched is with Cupids greater flame:
But faithfull friendship doth them both suppresse:
And them with maistring discipline doth tame
Through thoughts aspiring, to eternall fame.
Ed. Spencer.

In friendship, soveraigne 'tis as Mithridate,
Thy friend to love, as one whom thou maist hate.
M. of M.

Ne certes can that friendship long endure,
How ever gay and goodly be the style,
That doth ill cause or evill end endure,
For vertue is the band which bindeth hearts most sure.
Ed. Spencer.

— Enmitie that of no ill proceeds,
But of occasion, with the occasion ends,
And friendship which a faint affection breeds,
Without regard of good, lies like ill grounded seed.
Ed. Spencer.

With vertue chuse thy friend, with vertue him retaine,
Let vertue be the ground, so shall it not be vaine.
S. Th. Wiat.

Try frends by touch, a feeble frēd may prove thy strōgest foe ▪
Great Pompeys head to Caesars hand, it was betraied so,
V V. V Varner.

In perfect friendship no suspect, for two in one are all,
Communitie, or doubling ioy, or making griefe more small.
Idem.

The truest friendship in miserie is tride,
For then will none but faithfull friends abide,
G. Turberuile.

Right true it is, and said full yore agoe,
Take heed of him that by the backe thee claweth,
For none is worse, then is the friendly foe,
Though thee seeme good, all things ytyt thee delighteth:
Yet know it well, that in thy bosome creepeth,
For many a man such fiers oft times hee kindleth,
That with the blaze his beard himselfe he singeth.
E. of Surrey.

None can deeme right who faithfull friends do rest,
While they beare sway and rule in hie degree:
For then both fast and fained friends are prest.
Whose faiths seeme both of one effect to bee.
But then revolts the first and fained guest,
When wealth unwindes and fortune seemes to flie,
But he that loves indeed, remaineth fast,
And loves and serues when life and all is past.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Oft times we see in house of meane estate,
In fortunes bad, and chances overthwart:
That men do sooner laie away debate,
And joine in sound accord with hand and hart,
Then Princes courts, where riches genders hate:
And vile suspect that loving minds doth part.
Where charitie is cleane consumde and vanished,
And friendship firme, is quite cast out and banished.
Idem.

Who so wants friends to backe what he begins,
In lands farre off, gets not, although he wins.
S. Daniell.

If fortune friendly fawne, and lend thee wealthy store,
Thy frends conjoined ioy, doth make thy ioy the more
If frowardly she frowne, and driveth to distresse:
His aide releeves thy ruth, and makes thy solace lesse.
S. Th. Wiat.

They are not alwaies surest friends on whō we most do spend.
W. Warner.

True friends have feeling of each others wo,
And when ones hart is sad, all theirs is so.
Ch. Middleion.

A golden treasure is the •ried friend,
But who may gold from counterfeits defend?
Trust not to soone, nor yet to soone mistrust,
With th'one thy selfe thy selfe, with th'other thy friend thou hurtst,
Who twines betwixt, & stears the goldē mean,
Nor rashly loveth, nor mistrusts in vaine.
Mir. of M.

— Friends are geason now a daies,
And growe to fume before they taste the fier:
Aquersitie bereaving mans availes,
They flie like feathers dallying in the winde.
They rise like bubbles in a stormy raine,
Swelling in words, and flying faith and deeds.
D. Lodge.

Faint friends when they fall out, most cruel foemen be.
Ed. Spencer.

Better a new friend, then an old foe is said.
Idem.
Frugalitie.

He that will thrive, must thinke no courses vile.
B. johnson.

No hurt but good (who meanes to multiplie)
Bought wit is deare, and drest with sower sauce,
Repentance comes too late, and then say I,
Who spares the first, and keepes the last unspent ▪
Shall find that sparing yeelds a goodly rent.
G. Gascoigne.

Let first thine owne hand hold fast all that comes,
But let the other learne his letting flie:
Idem.
Furie.

— Furie furiously mans life assailes
With thousand cannons, sooner felt then seene,
Where weakest, strongest, fraught with deadly teene,
Blind, crooked, blisterd, melancholy, sad,
Many-named poyson, minister of death,
Which from us creepes, but to us gallopeth.
Foule, trouble rest, phantasticke, greedy-gut,
Bloud sweating, hearts-theefe, wretched, filthy-slut
The childe of surfait and aires-temper vicious,
Perillous knowne, but unknowne most pernicious.
I. Syluister.

— Furie cruell cursed wight,
That unto Knighthood workes much shame and woe,
And that same hag, his aged mother hight,
Occasion, the roote of all wrath and dispight.
With her, who so will raging Furie tame,
Must first begin, and welther amenage,
First her restraine from her reproachfull blame
And evill meanes, with which she doth enrage
Her franticke sonne, and kindles his courage,
Then when she is withdrawne, or strong withstood,
Is eath his Idle Furie to asswage,
And calme this tempest of his passion wood,
The bankes are overflowne, when so sped is the flood.
Ed. Spencer.

Furie was red with rage, his eyes did glowe,
While flakes of fier from forth his mouth did flowe
His hands and armes y bathed in bloud of those
Whom fortune, sinne, or fate made countries foes.
T. Lodge.

— This fell fury, for forerunner sends
Manie and phrenzie, to subborne her frends,
Whereof the one drying, th'other overwarming.
The feeble brain (the edge of iudgement harming)
Within the soule phantastickly they faine,
A confused hoast of strange Chimeraes vaine.
I. Syluister.
Gifts.

Tis wisedome to give much, a Gift prevailes,
When deepe perswading Oratorie failes.
Ch. Marlowe.

A giving hand though foule, shall have faire praise.
S. Daniell.

— The greatest Gifts whereof we boast,
Are those which do attempt and tire us most.
T. Lodge.

— Onely wisedome grave, and iudgements cleere,
Gifts giu'n from heaven, that are not common heere.
S. I. H. Transl.

Goods Gifts are often given to men past good.
G. Chapman.

Good Gifts abused, to mans confusion turne.
Th. Dekkar.

Testators and Executors so give and so receave,
As doubtful whethers ioy or griefe, is more to take or leave
For as do hogs their troghs to hoūds, so these give & get place
Death not the Dier gives bequests, and therfore but grave grace.
W. Warner.

To loiter well deserued Gifts, is not to give but sell,
When to requite ingratitude, were to do evill well.
Idem.
Gentlenesse.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne,
For a man by nothing is so well bewraide,
As by his maners, in which plaine is showne,
Of what degree, and what race he is growne.
Ed. Spencer.

Sweete gentlenesse is Bewties waiting maide.
Th. V Vatson.

— In gentle thoughts,
Relenting thoughts, remorse, and pittie rests.
Ch. Marlowe.

All like as Phoebus, with his chearefull beames,
Doth freshly force the fragrant flowers to flourish,
So gentle rulers subiects love do nourish.
I. H. Mir. of M.

Like as the gentle heart it selfe it selfe bewraies,
In doing gentle deeds with francke delight:
Euen so the baser minde it selfe it selfe displaies,
In canckered malice, and revenge for spight.
W. Shakespeare.

O what an easie thing is't to discrie
The gentle bloud, how ever it be wrapt,
In sad misfortunes foule deformitie
And wretched sorrowes which have often hapt.
For howsoever it may grow mishapt,
That to all vertue it may seeme unapt,
Yet will it shew some sparkes of gentle minde,
And at the last, breake forth in his owne proper kinde.
Ed. Spencer.
Gentrie.

— True Gentrie standeth in the trade
Of vertuous life, not in the fleshly line,
For bloud is knit, but Gentrie is divine.
I. H. M. of M.

Above cognizance or armes, or pedigree farre,
An unspotted coate, is like a blazing starre.
G. Gascoigne.

Kind Amalthea was transformd by jove,
Into his sparkling pavement, for his love,
Though but a goate, and giving him her milke,
Bazenes is flinty Gentrie, soft as silke.
In heaven she lives, and rules a living signe
In humane bodies: yet not so divine,
That she can worke her kindnes in our hearts.
G. Chapman.

The true Gentilitie by their owne armes
Aduance themselues, the falls by others harmes.
Th. Bastard.
Gluttonie.

— By his side rode loathsome Gluttonie,
Deformed creature, on a filthy swine:
His belly was upblowen with luxurie,
And eke with fatnes, swollen were his eine.
And like a Crane, his necke was long and fine,
With which he swallowed up excessive feast,
For want of which, poore people oft did pine,
And all the way most like a brutish swine,
He spued up his gorge, that all did him detest.
Ed. Spencer.

Fat paunches have leane pates, and daintie bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankrout quite the wits.
W. Shakespeare.

Your appetites O gluttons to content,
The sacred breast of Thetis blew, is rent:
The aire must be dispeopled for your mawes,
The Phoenix sole can scarce escape your clawes.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Of little nature lives, superfluous meate
But dulls the spirit, and doth the stomacke freate.
Idem.

V Vho fareth finest, doth but feed, and overfeedeth oft,
Who sleepeth softest doth but sleep, and sometimes oversoft.
W. warner.

— Excesse doth worke accesse to sinne.
Idem.

O plague, O poyson to the warlike state,
Thou makest the noble hearts effeminate,
While Rome was ruled by Curioes and Fabrices,
Who fed on rootes, and sought not for delices.
And when the onely Cressons was the foode,
Most delicate to Persia then they stoode
In happie state, renowned in peace and warre,
And through rhe world their triumphs spread a farre.
But when they after in th'Assirian hall,
Had heard the lessons of Sardanopall,
And when the other given to belly-cheare,
By Galbaes, Neroes, Vitels governed were,
Who gloried more to fill a costly plate,
Then kill a Pirrhus or a Mithridate.
Then both of them were seene for to be sacked
By nations poore, whom they before had wracked.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

O glutton throates, O greedie guts profound,
The chosen meates which in the world his bound,
By th' Abderois inuented, may not stanch
Nor satisfie your foule devouring panch,
But must in Moluke seeke the spices fine,
Canary suger, and the Candy wine.
Idem.

Fatnesse by nature (not immoderate)
Kils not the wit, quels not the mindes estate.
But fatnes by intemperance increast,
When living man resembseth loathsome beast:
And belly cheare, with greedie gluttonie
Is held the fulnesse of felicitie.
This maketh men addicted to the same,
Dull in conceit, grosse minded, worthy blame.
Of such do Basis, Galen, Plato write:
That fattest belly hath the weakest sprite.
D. Lodge.

— O short, ô dangerous madnesse,
That in thy rage doest trustie Clytus smother,
By his deare friend: Panthea by his mother.
Phrenzie, that makes the vaunter insolent,
The talkefull blab, cruell and violent,
The fornicator waxe adulterous,
Th'adulterer to become incestuous,
With thy plagues leven, swelling all our crimes
Blinde, shamelesse, senslesse, quenching oftentimes
The soule within it selfe it selfe: and oft defames
The holiest men, with execrable flames.
I. Siluester.

Like as the must beginning to reboyle,
Makes his new vessell wood-bands to recoyle:
Lifts up his lees, and spues with fuming vent,
From this tubbes ground his scumming excrement.
So rvinist thou thy hoast, and foolishly
From his hearts bottome drivest all secrecy.
Idem.
Good name.

The voyce that goeth of your unspotted fame,
Is like a tender flowre, that with the blast
Of every little winde doth fade away.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.

The purest treasure mortall times affoord,
Is spotlesse reputation, that away,
Men are but guilded trunkes, or painted clay.
W. Shakespeare.

You cannot be too curious of you name,
Fond show of ill (though still the mind be chaste)
Decaies the credit oft that Ladies had,
Sometimes the place presumes a wanton minde,
Repaire sometimes of some doth hurt their honour.
Sometimes the light and garish proud attire,
Perswades a yeelding bent of pleasing youthes.
G. Gascoigne.
Goodnesse.

— Euen with Goodnesse men grow discontent.
Where allare ripe to fall, and vertue spent.
S. Daniell.

Good things may scarce appeare,
But passe away with speedie wing.
M. Roydon.
Of God.

I am that one, is, was, and aye shall be,
Who create all of nought, as pleaseth me:
I can destroy, I am the great and iust,
The faire, the good, the holy one to trust:
Whose strong right hand this world hath set in frame.
I plague my foe, and graunt my seruants grace,
All those that knowledge me, and all their race.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

— How soever things in likelyhood discent
In birth, life, death, our God is first, the middle and event.
And not what he can do he will, but what he will he can,
And that he do or do it not, behoves us not to scan.
V V. V Varner

God first made Angels bodilesse pure mindes,
Then other things, which mindlesse bodies bee:
Last he made man the Horizon twixt both kindes,
In whom we do the worlds abtidgement see.
I. Davies.

How fond is that man in his fantasie
Who thinkes that jove the maker of us all,
The Sunne, the Moone the Starres celestiall,
So that no leafe without his leave can fall.
Hath not in him omnipotence also,
To guide and governe all things here below.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.

— Heaven is his seate,
Th'earth his footestoole, and the prison great.
Of Plutoes raigne, where damned soules are shut,
Is of his anger evermore the but.
I. Syluester. Transl.

— Full hard it is to read aright
The secret meaning of the eternall might:
That rules mans waies, and rules the thoughts of living wight.
Ed. Spencer.

The man of earth sounds not the seas profound
Of Gods deepe iudgements, where there is no ground
Let soberr•esse be still thy wisedomes end,
Admiring that thou canst not comprehend.
I. Syluester. Tran.

Vnder his feete (subiected to his grace,
Sit nature, fortune, motion, time, and place.
Ed. Fairfax. Tran.

— Is there care in heaven? is there love
In the heavenly spirits to these creatures base,
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is: els much more wretched were the case
Of men, then beasts; but ô the exceeding grace
Of highest God, that loves his creature so:
And all his workes with mercy doth imbrace.
That blessed Angels he sends too and fro,
To serue to wicked man, to serue his wicked foe.
Ed. Spencer.

Our gracious God makes scant waight of displeasure,
And spreads his mercy without waight or measure,
I. Syluester.

The eternall power that guides the earthly frame,
And serues him with the instrument of heaven:
To call the earth, and summon up our shame:
By an edict from everlasting given,
Forbids mortalitie to search the same.
Where sence is blind, and wit of wit bereaven:
Terror must be our knowledge, feare our skill,
To admire his worke, and tremble at his will.
S. Daniell.

— Howsoever things in likely hood discent,
In birth life, death, our god is first, the middle & event
And not what he can do he wil, but what he wil he can,
And that he do or do it not, behoves us not to scan.
W. Warner.

God may all that he wills, his will is iust,
God wills all good to them that in him trust.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Where the Almighties lightening brand doth light,
It dimmes the daz'led eies, & daunts the sences quight
Ed. Spencer.

— The Gods are ever iust,
Our faults excuse their rigour must.
S. Daniell.

The Lord law-maker iust and righteous,
Doth frame his lawes not for himselfe but us:
He frees himselfe; and flies with his powers wing,
No where but where his holy will doth bring.
All that he doth is good, because it doth proceed
From him: that is the roote of good indeed
From him; that is the spring of righteousnesse:
From him, whose goodnesse nothing can expresse.
I. Syluester.

— Indeed the evil done
Dies not when breath the body first doth leave,
But from the gransire to the nephewes sonne,
And all his seed the curse doth often cleave,
Till vengeance utterly the guilt bereave:
So straightly God doth iudge.
Ed. Spencer.

There is no strength in armour, man or horse,
Can vaile, If jove on wronged take remorse:
For he on whom the deadly dart doth light,
Can never scape by raunsome, friend nor flight.
I. Harr. Mir. of Mag.

Eternall providence exceeding thought,
Where none appeares, can make her selfe her selfe away.
Ed. Spencer.

If Gods can their owne excellence excell,
It's in pardoning mortalls that rebell.
M. Drayton.

God most doth punish, whom he most regardeth.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— Where Gods do vengeance crave,
It is not strong deensive walls that any thing can save.
V V. Warner.

— God hath made a salue for every sore,
If men would learne the same for to apply.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Man purposeth, but all things are disposed
By that great God that sits and rules above.
Idem.

What man is he that boasts of fleshly might,
And vaine assurance of mortalitie?
Which all so soone as it doth come to fight,
Against spirituall foes, yeelds by and by,
Or from the field most cowardly doth flye?
Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill,
That though grace hath gained victory.
If any sleight we have it is to ill,
But all the good is Gods, both power and eke the will.
Ed. Spencer.

God never seekes by tryall of temptation,
To sound mans heart and secret cogitation.
For well he knowes man, and his eye doth see
All thoughts of men, ere they conceaved bee.
I. Syluester. Transl.

— God
Conjoines no lesse our willes then bolds our harts,
A sure presage that he is on our parts.
Th. Hudson. Tran.

Our God is iust, whose stroke delaid long,
Doth light at last with paine more sharpe and strong.
I. H. M. of Magist.

The mistie cloudes that fall sometime
And overcast the skies:
Are like to troubles of our time,
Which do but dimme our eies.
But as such deawes are dried up quite
When Phebus showes his face:
So are sad fancies put to flight,
When God doth guide by grace.
G. Gascoigne.

Gods mercy gently waighes his iustice downe.
Th. A•helly.

So blinds the sharpest counsell of the wise,
This overshadowing providence on hie:
And dazeleth the clearest sighted eies,
That they see not how nakedly they lie.
There where they little thinke the storme doth rise,
And overcast their cleare securitie.
When man hath stopt all waies save only that,
That (least suspected) rvine enters at.
S. Daniell.

When Sathan tempts he leades us unto hell,
But God doth guide whereas no death doth dwell.
When Sathan tempts he seekes our faith to foyle,
But God doth seale it never to recoyle.
Sathan suggesteth ill, good moves to grace,
The divel seekes our baptisme to deface.
But God doth make our burning zeale to shine,
Amongst the candels of his Church divine.
I. Syl. Transl.

— Gods word
(Which made the world, sustaines and guides it still)
To divers ends conducts both good and ill.
He that preferres not God fore all his race,
Amongst the sonnes of God deserues no place.
And he that plowes the furrowes of Gods feeld,
May not turne backe his fainting face nor yeeld.
Idem.

God with eternall bread in time of need,
His loved jacob fortie yeares did feed.
And gave them water from the solid stone,
Which of it selfe it selfe had never moysture none.
Their caps, their coats, and shoes that they did weare,
God kept all fresh and new full fortie yeare.
Th. Hud. Tran.

The most iust God when once mans sinnes do grow
Beyond the bounds of pardon and of grace:
Because that men his iudgements best may know:
Like to his love, to rule on earth doth place
Monsters most vile to tyrannize us so,
With wrong the right, with lust lawes to deface.
For this said cause were Scylla sent and Marius,
The Nerons both, and filthy minded Varius:
For this Domitian held in Rome the raigne,
And Antoninus of that name the last:
And Messinine a base unworthy swaine.
To place mankind in princely throne was plaste:
For this in Thebes did cruell Creon raigne,
With other tyrants more in ages past.
For this of late hath Italy bene wonne,
By men of Lombardie, of Goth and Hunne.
S. Daniell.
Good deeds.

Who wold to God but workes no good, who seeketh fame by ease,
Comes short of both, no lesse then maps to very lands and seas.
W. Warner.

Good deeds in case that they be evil placed,
Ill deeds are reckoned and soone disgraced.
That is a good deed that prevents a bad.
G. Chapman.

Well doing, farre exceedeth well to say.
G. Turberuile.

Ill deeds may better the bad words be bore.
Ed. Spencer.

Let every one do all the good they can,
or sildom commeth harme of doing well.
Though iust reward it wanteth now and than.
Yet shame and evill death it doth expell:
But he that mischieveth an other man,
Seldome doth carry it to heaven or hell.
Men say it, and we see it come to passe,
Good turnes in dust, and bad turnes writ in glasse.
S. I. Harrington. Transl.

Wretched is he that thinkes by doing ill,
His evill deeds long to conceale and hide:
For though the voyce and tongues of men be still,
By foules and beasts his sinne shall be discride,
And God oft worketh by his secret will,
That sinne it selfe it selfe, the sinner so doth guide,
That of his owne accord without request,
He makes his wicked doings manifest.
Idem.

Our bodies buried, then our deeds ascend,
Those deeds in life to worth can not be rated,
In death with life, our fame even then is dated.
M. Drayton.
Greatnesse.

Great things still orewhelme themselues by waight.
E. Guilpin.

Greatnesse like to the sunnes reflecting powers,
The fier bred vapours naturally exhailes,
And is the cause that oft the evening lowers,
When foggy mists enlarge their duskie sailes.
That his owne beames he in the cloudes impailes,
And either must extinguish his owne light,
Or by his vertue cause his proper right.
M. Drayton.

To be huge is to be deadly sicke.
I. Marston.

O blinded Greatnesse, thou with thy turmoile,
Still selling happy life, makest life a toile.
S. Daniel.

— He that strives to manage mightie things,
Amidst his triumphes, beares a troubled minde:
The greatest hope the greatest haruest brings,
And poore men in content there glory finde.
D. L•dge.

The man that furthereth other men to thrive,
Of private greatnesse doth himselfe deprive.
Th. Storer.
Griefe.

Griefe all in sables sorrowfully clad,
Downe hanging his dull head with heavie cheare,
Yet inly beine more, then seeming sad,
A paire of pincers in his hand he had.
With which, he pinched people to the heart,
That from thenceforth, a wretched life they lad:
In wilfull languor and consuming smart,
Dying each day with impaired wounds of dolors dart.
Ed. Spencer.

Griefe onely makes his wretched state to see,
(Euen like a toppe, which nought but whipping moves)
This man, this talking beast, this walking tree,
Griefe is the stone, which finest iudgements proves,
For who grieves not, hath but a blockish braine,
Since cause of Griefe we cause, from life removes.
S. Ph. Sydney.

— Griefes deadly sore,
Vnkindnes breeds, unkindnes fostereth hate.
Idem.

Griefe to it selfe it selfe most dreadfull doth appeare,
And never yet was sorrow voyd of feare:
But yet in death, they both do hope the best.
M. Drayton.

Griefes be long lived, and sorrowes seldome die.
Idem.

Griefe hath two tongues, and never woman yet
Could rule them both, without tenne womens wit.
W. Shakespeare.

He oft findes medicine, who his griefes imparts,
But double Griefe afflicts concealing harts,
As raging flames, who striveth to suppresse.
Ed. Spencer.

Found never help, who never could his griefe impart.
Idem.

No greater ease of heart the griefes to tell,
It daunteth all the dolours of the minde:
Our carefull hearts thereby great comfort finde.
I. H. Mir. of Mag.

An Ouen that is stopt, or River staied,
Burneth more hotely, swelleth with more rage:
So of concealed Griefe it may be said.
Free vent of words, loves fier doth asswage.
But when the hearts atturney once is mute,
The Client breakes, as desperate in his sute.
W. Shakespeare.

No one thing doth availe man more,
To cure a griefe, and perfectly to heale it,
Then if he do unto some friends reveale it.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— Griefe it is inough to vexed wight,
To feele his fault and not be farther vext.
Fd. Spencer.

— Some griefe shewes much of love,
But much to griefe shewes still some want of wit.
W. Shakespeare.

— Great griefe can not be told,
And can more easily be thought then found.
Ed. Sp.
Paine.

Thou Paine, the onely ghuest of loathed constraint,
The child of curse, mans weaknesse foster child,
Brother to woe, and father of complaint,
Thou Paine, thou loathed paine from heaven exild.
H. C.

The scourge of life, and deaths extreame disgrace,
The smoake of hel, that monster's called paine.
Idem.

The thing that grievous were to do or beare
Them to renew, I wot breeds no delight.
Ed. Spencer.

True griefe is fond, and testy as a childe,
Who wayward once, his moode with nought agrees,
Old woes not infant sorrowes beare them milde,
Continuance tames the one, the other wilde,
Like an unpractized swimmer plunging still
With too much labour drownes for want of skill.
W. Shakespeare.

Paine paies the income of each precious thing.
W. Sh.
Heaven.

From hence with grace and goodnesse compast round
God ruleth, blesseth, keepeth, all he wrought:
Above the aire, the fire, the sea, and ground,
Our sense, our wit, our reason, and our thought:
Where persons three, with power and glory crownd,
Are all one God, who made all things of nought.
Vnder whose feete subiected to his grace,
Sit nature, fortune, motion, time, and place.
This is the place from whence like smoake and dust
Of this fraile world, the wealth, the pompe, the power
He tosseth, humbleth, turneth as he lust,
And guides our life, our end, our death and hower:
No eye (how ever vertuous, pure and iust)
Can view the brightnes, of that glorious bower,
On every side the blessed spirirs bee
Equall in ioyes, though differing in degree.
E. Fairfax. Transl.

In this great temple, richly bewtified,
Paved all with starres, disperst on Saphire flower,
The Clarke is a pure Angell sanctified,
The judge our hie Messias full of power,
The Apostles, his assistance, every hower
The jury Saints, the verdit Innocent,
The Sentence, Come ye blessed to my tent.
The speare that pierst his side, the writing Pen,
Christes bloud the Inke, red Inke for Princes name,
The vailes great breach, the miracles for men,
The sight is shew of them that long dead came
From their old graves, restored to living fame.
And that last signet passing all the rest,
Our soules discharged by Consumatum est.
Here endlesse ioy is, there perpetuall cheare,
Their exercise, sweete songs of many parts,
Angells the quier, whose symphonie to heare,
Is able to provoke conceiving harts,
To misconceive of all inticing arts.
The dirty praise, the subiect is the Lord,
That tunes their gladsome spirit to this accord.
Th. Storer.

What so the Heavens in their secret doombe,
Ordained have, how can fraile fleshly wight
Forecast, but it must needs to issue come.
Ed. Spencer.

What in the heavenly parliament above,
Is written by the finger of the first,
Mortalls may feele, but never can remove,
For they are subiect to the heavens worst.
I. Markham.

By mortall lawe the bond may be divorced,
The heavens decrees by no meanes can be forced.
M. Drarton.

In vaine doth man contend against the Starres,
For what he seekes to make, his wisedome marres.
S. Daniell.

— Humane wishes never have the power
To hurt or hast the course of heaven one hower.
Th. Hudson. Transl.

Experience proves, and daily it is seene,
In vaine (too vaine) man strives against the heavens.
G. Gascoigne.

It is most true, that eyes are bound to serue
The inward part, and that th'heavenly part
Ought to be King, from whose rules who doth swerue,
Rebelles to nature, strive for their owne smart.
True that true bewtie, vertue is indeed,
Whereof this bewtie can be but a shade:
Which elements, with mortall mixture breed,
True that on earth we are but pilgrimes made,
And should in soule up to our countrey move.
S. Ph. Sydney.

Heaven is our home, we are but straungers here.
M. Drayton.

The heavens, earth, and aire, and seas and all,
Taught men to see, but not to shunne their fall.
S. Daniell.

Things which presage both good and ill there bee,
Which heaven foreshewes, yet will not let us see.
M. Drayton.

From them comes good, from them comes also ill,
That which they made, who can them warne to spill.
Ed. Spencer.

In vaine be armes, when heaven becomes thy foe.
Idem.

Looke when the heavens are to iustice bent,
All things be turned to our iust punishment.
Idem.

All powers are subiect to the power of heaven,
Nor wrongs passe unrevenged, although excused.
Idem.

Would heaven her bewtie should be hid from sight,
Nere would she thus adorne her selfe her selfe with light,
With sparkling Lamps; nor would she paint her throne
But she delighted to be gazed upon.
And when the glorious sunne goes downe,
Would she put on her stary bestudded crowne,
And in her masking sure, the spangled skie
Come forth to bride it with her revellry,
Heavens gave this gift to all things in creation,
That they in this should immitate their fashion.
Idem. M Drayton.

Heavens influence was never constant yet,
In good or bad, as to continue it.
Th. Kyd.

If thou be wise hold this as ominous,
The heavens not like disposed every houre,
The starres be still predominant in us:
Fortune not alway forth her bagge doth powre,
Nor every cloude doth raine a golden showre.
M. Drayton.
Heart.

Free is the Heart, the temple of the minde,
The sanctuarie sacred from above,
Where nature keepes the keys that loose and binde,
No mortall hand force, open can that doore,
So close shut up, and lock to all mankinde.
S. Daniell.

The bodies wound, by medicines may be eased,
But griefes of heart, by salues are not appeased.
R. Greene.

By thought of heart, the speech of tongue is carried.
S. I. Harr. Tran.
— Happinesse,
vid. Felicitie.
Hate.

Hate is the elder, love the yonger brother,
Yet is the yonger stronger in his state
Then th'elder, and him mastereth still in all debate.
Ed. Spencer.

Nor Hate nor love, did ever iudge aright,
Innated hate will hardly be displaste
Out of high hearts, and chiefly where debate
Happeneth amongst great persons of estate.
I. H. Mirr. of M.

Hatred must be beguilde by some new course,
Where states are strong, & Princes doubt their force.
S. Daniell.

Spight bites the dead, that living never darde.
Ed. Spencer.

Sildome doth malice want a meane to worke.
M. Drayton.

Hate hits the hie, and windes force tallest towers ▪
Hate is peculiar to a Princes state.
R. Greene.

Hatred accompanies prosperitie,
For one man greeveth at an others good:
And so much more we thinke o•r miserie,
The more that fortune hath with others stood.
So that we seld are seene as wisedome would,
To bridle time with reason as we should.
Th. Kyd.
Haste.

Oft times the greatest haste the worser speeds.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

As busie braines must beat on tickle toyes,
As rash inuention breeds a raw device:
So suddein falles do hinder hastie ioyes,
And as swift baits do fleetest fish intice,
So haste makes waste, and therefore now I say,
No haste but good, where wisedome beares the sway.
G. Gascoigne.

The swiftest bitch brings forth the blindest whelpes,
The hottest fevers coldest crampes ensue.
The nakedst need, hath over-latest helpes.
Idem.

Hastie respect, repents when tis too late.
I. Markeham.

Rashnesse sees all, but nothing can prevent.
M. Drayton.

Fore-iudging, puts out one of wisedomes eies.
— If by rashnesse valour have got honour,
We blame the rashnesse, but reward the valour.
Ch. Fitz jeffrey.

O rash false heat wrapt in repentance cold,
Thy haste springs still blood, and nere growes old.
W. Sh.
Hell.

An hidious hole all vast withouten shape,
Of endlesse depth, orewhelmed with ragged stone:
With ougly mouth and grifly iawes doth gape,
And to our sight confounds it selfe it selfe in one.
Here entred we, and yeeding forth anon
An horrible loathly lake we might discerne
As blacke as pitch, that cleped is Auerne,
A deadly gulfe, where nought but rubbish growes,
With foule blacke swelth in thickned lumps that lies:
Which up in th'aire such stinking vapour throwes.
That over, there may fly no fowle but dies,
Choakt with th'pestilent savours that arise.
M. Sackuile.

Thence come we to the horror and the hell,
The large great kingdomes and the dreadfull raigne,
Of Pluto in his throne where he did dwell,
The wide waste places and the hugie plaine:
The waylings, shrikes, and sundry sorts of paine.
The sighes, the sobbes, the deep and deadly grone,
Earth, aire, and all resounding plaine and mone.
Idem.

Then turning backe, in silence soft they stole,
And brought the heavy course with easie pace,
To yawning gulfe of deep Auernus hole,
And by that same an entrance darke and base,
With smoake and Sulphur hiding all the place,
Descends to hell, their creature never past,
That back returned without heavenly grace.
But dreadfull furies, which their chaines have brast,
And damned sprights, sent forth to make ill men agast.
Ed. Spencer.

— Darksome den of Auernus
Wher's no path to returne, nor starting holes to be scaping,
Desteny, death, and hell, and howling hidious hell-hound,
Loathsom streames of Stix, that nine times compasse Auernu•.
Ab. Fraunce.

They passe the bitter waves of Acheron,
Where many soules sit wayling wofully:
And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton,
Whereas the damned ghoasts in torments fry,
And with sharpe shrilling shrikes do bootlesse cry:
Cursing high jove, the which them thither sent.
Ed. Spencer.

About the desart parts of Greece there is a vally low,
To which the roaring waters fall, that frō the moūtains flow•
So rocks do overshadow it, that scarse a man may vew
The open aire, no sun shines there; amidst this darkesom cre•
Doth stand a citie, to the same belongs one onely gate,
But one at once may come therto, the entrance is so strait.
Cut out the rough maine stony rocke: this citie did belong
To Pluto, and because that he was doing alwaies wrong,
And kept a theevish rable that in mischiefe did excell,
His citizens were divels said, and citie named hell.
W. Warner.
Honour.

In woods, in waves, in warres doth honour dwell,
And will be found with petill and with paine:
Ne can the man that moulds in idle cell
Vnto her happie mansion attaine,
Before her gate hie God did sweat ordaine,
And wakefull watches ever to abide.
Ed. Spencer.

Honour is purchas'de by the deeds we doo.
Ch. Marlowe.

— Honour is not wonne
Vntill some honourable deed be donne.
Idem.

Danger bids seeke the softest way one way.
But what saith honour? honour saith not so.
Never retire with shame; this honour saith:
The worst that can befall one, is but death.
S. I. Harr.

In brave pursuit of honourable deed,
There is I know not what great difference
Betweene the vulgar and the common seed,
Which unto things of valerous pretence
Seemes to be borne by native influence:
As feates of armes, and love to entertaine,
But chiefly skill to ride, doth seeme a science,
Proper to gentle blood; some others faine.
To manage steed. &c.
Ed. Spencer.

— Euer great imployment for the great,
Quickens the bloud, and honour doth beget.
S. Daniell.

— Promotion is a puffe,
These worldly honors are but shades of sweete:
Who seeke too much before they get enough,
Before they meet the meane, with death they meete.
With death they meete the haven of all desire,
Where will must wa•ne, and pride cannot aspire.
D. Lodge.

Honour a thing without us, not our owne.
S. D.

What doth availe to have a princely place,
A name of honour, and an high degree:
To come by kindred of a noble race,
Except we princely worthy noble bee,
The fruite declares the goodnesse of the tree.
Do brag no more of birth or linage than,
Sith vertue, grace, and manners make the man.
M. of M.

Search all thy bookes, and thou shalt finde therein,
That honour is more hard to hold then win.
G. Gascoigne.

Defeated honour never more is to be got againe.
W. Warner.

— Vile is honour, and a little vaine,
The which true worth and danger do not gaine.
S. Daniell.

Vertue can beare what can on vertue fall.
Who cheapneth honour must not stand on price.
M. Drayton.

It most behoves the honourable race
Of mightie peeres, true wisedome to sustaine:
And with their noble countenance to grace
The learned forheads without gifts or gaine.
Or rather learnd themselues behoves to bee,
That is the garland of nobilitie.
Ed. Spencer.

— If that honour have one minutes staine,
An hundred yeares scant can it cleanse againe.
S. I. H. Transl.

A shame to fetch our long discent from kings,
And from great jove derive our pedigree:
The brave atchiements of an hundred things,
Breathing vaine boasts the world to terrifie,
If we our selues our selues do blot with infamie.
And staine the right and honour that is theirs,
Men cannot leave their vertues to their heires.
M. Drayton.

Honour is grounded on the tickle yce.
The purest lawne most apt for every spot.
Idem.

Honors shade, thrusts honors substance from his place.
I. Marston.

Honour by dve right is vertues hire.
Th. Watson.

Honours without imployment of estate,
Are like to sun-beames without heate or light:
A noble man and not a magistrate
Shines halfe eclipsed in his clearest bright.
joyne heavenly gifts to earthly, light to light.
Let these great excellencies make a truce,
Fortune shall need no wheele-wright for her use.
Th. Storer.

Great is the choise that growes in youthfull minde,
When honour falles at variance with affection:
Nor could it yet be knowne or well definde,
Which passion keeps the other in subiection.
Both do allure, both doth the iudgements blinde,
Both do corrupt the heart with strong infection.
Yet loe sometimes these hurts procure our weale,
Euen as one poyson doth another heale.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

The fiery sparkling precious Chrysolite
Spangled with gold, doth most transplendent shine:
The pearle graced by the ring, the ring by it,
The one, the others beautie doth refine:
And both together beauties do combine.
The iewell decks the golden haire that weares it,
Honour decks learning, that with honour reares it.
Ch. Fitz.

The inward touch that wounded honour beares,
Rests closely ranckling, and can find no ease,
Till death of one side cure this great disease.
S. Daniell.
Hope.

Faiths yonger sister that Speranza hight,
Was clad in blew, that her beseemed well:
Not all so chearfull seemed she of sight
As was her sister: whether dread did dwell
Or anguish in her heart, is hard to tell:
Vpon her arme a siluer anchor lay,
Whereon she leaned ever as befell.
And ever up to heaven as she did pray,
Her eyes were bent, ne swarued other way.
Ed. Spencer.

— Hope a handsome maide,
Of chearfull looke and lovely to behold:
In silken Samite she was light araide,
And her faire locks were woven up in gold:
She alway smilde, and in her hand did hold
An holy water sprinkle, dipt in dewe,
With which she sprinkled favours manifold.
On whom she list, and did great liking shewe,
Great liking unto many, but true love to fewe.
Idem.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallowes wings,
Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.
W. Shakespeare.

Wan Hope poore soule, on broken anchor sits
Wringing his armes, as robbed of his blisse.
D. Lodge.

What better emperor can the body hold,
Then sacred Hope? the element from whence,
Vertue is drawne fresh looking, never old:
Matter most worthy of a strong defence.
It animates yoong men, and makes them bold,
Arming their hearts with holy influence,
It like a seale in tender thoughts doth presse
The perfect Image of all happinesse.
L. Markham.

— Hope is double, and hath double power,
As being mortall, and immortall fram'de:
In th'one shee's movelesse, certaine every houre:
In th'other doubtfull, and incertaine nam'de.
Th'immortall Hope raines in a holy bowre,
In earthy closures is the mortall tam'de.
And these two contraries, where ere they meete,
Double delight, and make our thoughts more sweete.
Idem.

He that hopes least, leaves not to hope at all,
But hopes the most, hoping so little hope,
Augmenting of our hope, makes hope growe small,
And taking from it, gives it greater scope.
The desperate man which in dispaire doth fall,
Hopes by that end ill fortune to revoke,
And to this hope belongs a second part,
Which we call confidence, which rules the hart.
This second part of hope, this confidence,
Doth Tully call a vertue that doth guide
The Spirit to an honest residence,
Without whose aide, no pleasure will abide
In our world-wearied flesh.
I. Markeham.

All men are guests where hope doth hold the feast.
G. Gascoigne.

Such is the weakenesse of all mortall hope,
So tickle is the state of earthly things,
And brings us bale and bitter sorrowings,
That ere they come unto their aimed scope,
They fall too short of our fraile reckonings,
In stead of comfort which we should embrace.
This is the death of Keysars and of Kings,
Let none therefore that is in meaner place,
Too greatly grieve at any unluckie case.
Ed. Spencer.

Vnworthy they of grace, whom one deniall
Excludes from fairest hope, without farther triall.
Idem.

Hope like the Hyenna comming to be old,
Alters his shape, is turned to dispaire.
H. C.

Sorrow doth utter what us still doth grieve,
But hope forbids us sorrow to beleeve.
Idem.

— Our hopes good deceives us,
But that we would forgoe that seldome leaves us.
Idem.

None without great hopes will follow such,
Whose power and honour doth not promise much.
S. Daniell.

Who nothing hopes, let him dispaire in nought.
Th. Achelly.

To live in hope of that they meane to give,
Is to deceive our selues our selues, and not to live.
D. Lodge.

Hope lost, breeds griefe, griefe paine, and paine disease.
Th. Watson.

Our haps do turne as chaunces on the die.
Nor let him from his hope remove,
That under him, hath moved the starres above.
M. Drayton.

Hope and have, in time a man may gaine any woman.
A. Fraunce.

Hope well, feare not, marke this, be wise,
Droupe not, for to dispaire, is to die twise.
Ignoto.

Bad haps are holpe with hap and good beliefe.
S. I. Harrington. Transl.

O Hope, how cunning with our cares to gloze?
Griefes breathing poynt, the true man to desire,
The rest in sighes, the very thoughts repose,
As thou art milde, oh wert thou not a lier?
Faire speaking flatterie subtill soothing guile:
Ah Hope, in thee our sorrowes sweetly smile.
M. Drayton.
Humilitie.

He was an aged syre, hoary gray,
With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slowe,
Wont on a staffe his feeble steps to stay,
Hight Humilta: they passe in stouping lowe,
For straight and narrow was the way that he did showe.
Ed. Spencer.

Humilitie to heaven, the step, the staire
Is, for devotion, sacrifice, and praier.
M. Drayton.

The bending knee in safetie still doth goe,
When others stumble, as too stiffe to bowe.
Idem.

As on the unsavourie stocke, the Lillie is borne,
And as the Rose growes on the pricking thorne,
So modest life with sobs of grievous smart,
And cries devout, comes from an humble hart.
Th. Hudson. Transl,

More honour in Humilitie, then safetie in walles,
Proud livers prove not monuments, save onely in their falles.
W. Warner.

Ah God shield man that I should clime,
and learne to looke aloft:
This reed is ripe, that oftentime:
great climers fall unsoft.
In humble dale is footing fast,
the trode is not so fickle:
And though one fall through heedlesse haste,
yet is his misse not mickle.
Ed. Spencer.

The lowly heart doth win the love of all,
But pride at last, is sure of shamefull fall.
G. Tur.
Hypocrisie.

— Hypocrisie hath bred of Godlike divels store,
That speake to serue, that serue to shift, that shift to spare by guile,
And smoothe and soothe, and yet deceive, with scriptum est meane while.
W. Warner.

But let thē heave their hāds to heauē, they show they'r here in hell,
That seeme devout to cloake deceit, and say, but do not well.
Idem.

Who cloakes their mindes in hoods of holinesse
Are double villaines, and the Hypocrite
Is most odious in Gods glorious sight,
That takes his name to cover wickednesse.
I. Syl.

Many use temples to set godly faces
On impious hearts; those sinnes use most excesse,
That seeke their shrowdes in fained holinesse.
G. Chapman.
Vide. Dissimulation.
jealousie.

Shee seemed of womans shape, but in her head
A thousand eyes she had that watch did keepe:
As many eares with which she harkened,
Her eyes want lids, and therefore never sleepe.
In stead of haire, her crowne snakes overspred.
Thus marched she forth of the darknes deepe,
Her tayle one serpent bigger then the rest,
Which she with knots fastened about her brest.
S. I. Harrington. Transl.

A monster, others harme, selfe miserie
Bewties plague, vertues scourge, succour of lies.
Who since he hath by natures speciall grace,
So piercing pawes as spoile, when they embrace,
So nimble feete, as stirre though still on thornes.
So many men seeking their owne woe.
So ample eares that never good newes kowes
Is it not ill that such a beast want hotnes?
S. Ph. Sydney.

O hatefull hellish snake what furie first
Broughr thee from balefull house of Proserpine?
Where in her bosome she the long had nurst,
And fostered up with bitter milke of time,
Foule iealousie that turnest love divine.
To day lesse dread, and makest the living hart
With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine,
And feed it selfe it selfe with selfe consuming smart,
Of all the passions in the minde, thou viler art.
Ed. Spencer.

O jealousie, daughter of Enuie and love,
Most wayward issue of a gentle sire
Fostred with feares thy fathers ioies to prove,
Mirth marring monster, borne in subtiltie,
Hatefull unto thy selfe thy selfe, flying thy owne desire,
Feeding upon suspect that doth renew thee,
Happie were Lovers, if they never knew thee.
Thou hast a thousand gates thou entrest by,
Condemning trembling passions to our hart.
Hundred eyed Argus, ever making spy,
Pale hagge, infernall furie, pleasures smart:
Enuious obseruer, prying in every part,
Suspitions fearefull, gazing still about the hart.
O would to God that love could be without thee.
S. Daniell.

A new disease? I know not, new, or old;
But it may well be termed, poore mortall plaine.
For like the pestilence, it doth infect
The houses of the braine: first it begins
Solely to worke upon the phantasie,
Filling her seat with such pestiferous aire,
As soone corrupts the iudgement, and from thence
Sends like contagion to the memorie,
Still each of other taking like infection,
Which as a searching vapour spreads it selfe it selfe,
Confusedly through every sensive part,
Till not a thought or motion in the minde,
Be farre from the blacke poyson of suspect.
B. johnson.

Where love doth raigne, disturbing iealousie,
Doth call himselfe affections Centinell,
And in a peacefull houre, dooth crye kill, kill,
Distempering gentle love with his desire,
As ayre and water dooth abate the fire:
This sound informer, this bare-breeding spie,
This cancker that eates up this tender spring,
This carry-tale, discentio's iealousie.
W. Shakespeare.

Fowle weatherd iealousie to a forward spring,
Makes weeds growe ranke, but spoiles a better thing.
Sowes tares gainst haruest in the fields of love,
And dogged humor dogdayes like doth proove,
Scorching loves glorious world with glowing tong,
A serpent by which love to death is stonge
A foe to waste his pleasant summer bowers,
Ruine his mansions, and deface his bowers.
E. Guilpin.

Pale jealousie childe of insatiat love,
Of heartsicke thoughts, which melancholy bred,
A hell tormenting feare, no faith can move:
By discontent with deadly poyson fed,
With heedlesse youth and error vainly led.
A mortall plague, a vertue drowing floud,
A hellish fier, not quenched but with bloud.
M. Drayton.

What state of life more pleasant can we finde,
Then these that true and heartie love do beare?
Whom that sweet yoake doth fast together binde,
That man in Paradice first learnd to weare.
Were not some so tormented in their minde
With that same vile suspect that filthy feare,
That torture great, that foolish phrenezie,
That raging madnes, called jealousie,
For every other sower that gets a place
To seate it selfe it selfe amidst this pleasant sweete,
Helpes in the end to give a greater grace,
And make loves ioies more gracious then they were,
He that abstaines from sustenance a space,
Shall finde both bread and water relish sweete.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

— jealousie is Cupids foode,
For the swift steed runnes not so fast alone,
As when some other strive him to out goe.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Love wakes the iealous eye, least then it moves
The iealous eye, the more it lookes it loves.
S. Ph. Sydney.

— No iealousie can that prevent,
Whereas two parties once be full content.
Idem.

Impatience changeth smoake to flame, but iealousie to hell.
W. Warner.

On love, saies some, waits iealouzie, but iealousie wants love
When curiously the overplus doth idle quarels move.
Idem.

— Where iealousie is bred,
Hornes in the mind, are worse then hornes in the hed.
B. johnson.

That canker-worme, that monster iealousie,
Which eates the heart, and feeds upon the gall,
Turning all loves delight to miserie,
Through feare of loosing his felicitie.
Ed. Spencer.

Shun iealousie that hart-breake love, if cat will go to kinde,
Be sure that Io hath a meanes, that Argus shall be blinde.
V V. Warner.

True love doth looke with pale suspicious eie,
Take away love, if you take iealousie.
M. Drayton.

No beast is fierer then a iealous woman.
S. Daniell.
Idlenesse.

Prides coach was drawne of sixe unequall beasts,
On which her sixe sage counsellours did ride:
Taught to obey her bestiall beheasts,
With like conditions to their kindes applide.
Of which the first that all the rest did guide,
Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nurse of sinne,
Vpon a slothfull Asse he chose to ride,
Arraid in habit black and amis thin,
Like to an holy Monke, the seruice to begin.
Ed. Spencer.

— Idlenesse pure innocence subuerts,
Defiles our bodie, and our soule peruerts:
Yea soberest men it makes delicious,
To vertue dull, to vice ingenious.
I. Syl. Transl.

— Ill humours by excessive ease are bred,
And sloath corrupts and choakes the vitall sprights,
It kills the memorie, and hurts the sights.
D. Lodge.

— Drowsie sloth that counterfeiteth lame
With Snaile like motion measu•ing the ground:
Having her armes in willing fetters bound.
Foule, sluggish drone, barren (but sinne to breed)
Diseased, begger, starued with sinfull need.
I. Siluester.

If thou flie Idlenesse, Cupid hath no might,
His bowe lyeth broken, his torch hath no light.
Ignorance.

At last with creeping crooked pace forth came
An old old man, with beard as white as snow:
That on a staffe his feeble limbs did frame,
And guide his weary gate both too and fro.
For his eye sight him failed long ago,
And on his arme a bunch of keyes he bore,
The which unused, rust did overgrow.
But very uncouth sight was to behold
How he did fashion his untoward pace:
For a• he forward moved his footing old,
So backward still was turnd his wrinckled face•
Vnlike to men who ever as they trace
Both feete and face one way are wont to lead,
His name Ignaro, did his nature right aread.
Ed. Spencer.

Image of hellish horror, Ignorance,
Borne in the bosome of the blacke abisse,
And fed with furies milke for sustenance,
Of his weake infancie begot amisse:
By gnawing sloth, upon his mother night,
So he his sonnes, both Syre and brother hight.
Idem.

— All is turned into wildernesse,
Whilest Ignorance the Muses doth oppresse.
Idem.

— Hell and darknesse and the grisly grave,
Is Ignorance, the enemy of grace:
That minds of men borne heavenly, doth deface.
Idem.

Tis nought but showes that Ignorance esteemes
The thing possest, is not the thing it seemes.
S. Daniell.

— Great ill upon desert doth chance,
When it doth passe by beastly Ignorance.
M. Dray.
Impatience.

Impatience ehangeth smoake to flame, but iealousie to hell.
W. Warner.

Make not thy griefe too great by thy suppose,
Let not Impatience aggravate thy woes.
D. Lodge.
Infamie.

— To attempt hie daungers evident,
Without constraint or need is Infamie.
And honour turnes to rashnesse in th'event:
And who so dares, not caring how he dares,
Sells vertues name, to purchase foolish cares.
I. Markham.

— Reproach
A vile disease that never time can cure.
M. Drayton.

Sinne in a chaine leades on her sister shame,
And both in gives fast fettered to defame.
Idem.

Thy name once foild, incurable the blot,
Thy name defaste whch toucht with any staine,
And once supplanted never growes againe.
Gainst open shame no text can well be cited,
The blow once given cannot be evited.
M. Drayton.
Ingratitude.

Vnthankfulnesse is that great sin,
Which made the divel and his angels fall:
Lost him and them the ioyes that they were in,
And now in hell detaines them bound and thrall.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

Thou hatefull monster base Ingratitude,
Soules mortall poyson, deadly killing wound:
Deceitfull serpent seeking to delude,
Blacke loathsome ditch, where all desert is drowned:
Vile pestilence, which all things doest confound.
At first created to no other end,
But to greeve those, whom nothing could offend.
M. Drayton.

Ingratefull who is called, the worst of ill is spoken.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Tis true that slave whom Pompey did promote,
Was he, that first assaid to cut his throte.
D. Lodge.
Innocencie.

A plaint of guiltlesse hurt doth pierce the skie.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Sildome untoucht doth Innocencie escape,
When errour commeth in good counsels shape.
A lawfull title, counterchecks proud might,
The weakest things, become strong props to right.
M. Drayton.

Pure Innocence sildome suspecteth ought.
Idem.

A guiltlesse mind doth easily deeme the best.
M. of M.

The lyon licks the sores of filly wounded sheep,
The dead mās course doth cause the crocodile to weep:
The waves that wast the rocks refresh the rottē weeds,
Such ruth the wrack of innocence in cruel creatures breeds.
M. of M.

Well gave that judge his doome upon the death
Of Titus Laelius that in bed was slaine:
When every wight the cruell murder laith
To his two sonnes that in his chamber laie,
That judge that by the proofe perceiveth plaine
That they were found fast sleeping in their bed,
Hath deemed them guiltlesse of this bloudy shed.
He thought it could not be that they which brake
The lawes of God and man in such outrage,
Could so forth with themselues to rest betake:
He rather thought the horror and the rage
Of such an hainous gilt, could never swage.
Nor never suffer them to sleepe or rest,
Or dreadlesse breathe one breath out of their brest.
M. Sackuile.
Inconstancie.

Vnto the world such is Inconstancie,
As sappe to tree, as apple to the eie.
D. Lodge.
joye.

All like as sicker as the end of woe is joye,
And glorious light to obscure night doth tend,
So extreame joy in extreame woe doth end.
M. of M.

For why extreames are haps rackt out of course,
By violent might far swinged forth perforce:
Which as they are piercingst they violentest move:
For that they are nere to cause that doth them shove.
So soonest fall from that their highest extreame,
To th'other contrary that doth want of meane,
So laughed he erst that laughed out his breath.
Idem.

The pleasing meanes bode not the luckiest ends,
Nor aye, found treasure to like pleasure tends.
Mirth meanes not mirth alwaies thrice happie lyne
Of witte to shun th'excesse that all desire.
Idem.

joy lighteneth woe, woe joy doth moderate.
M. Drayton.

joy is forgetfull, weale thinkes not of woe.
Idem.

— joy ascends, but sorrow sinks below.
Ch. Fitz.

Fruits follow flowers, and sorrow greatest joyes.
As sudden griefe, so sudden joy doth kill.
Th. Achelly.

The Romane widow died when she beheld
Her sonne who erst she counted slaine in field.
G. Gascoigne.

— Excessive joy
Leapeth and likes finding the Appian way
Too strait for her: whose sences all possesse
All wished pleasure, in all plenteousnesse.
I. Syluester.
Iniustice.

Iniustice never yet tooke lasting roote.
Nor held that long, Impietie did winne.
S. Daniell.

So foule a thing, ô thou Iniustice art,
That tormentest both the dooer and distrest:
For when a man hath done a wicked part,
O how he strives to excuse, to make the best:
To shift the fault t'unburden his chargde hart.
And glad to find the least surmise of rest.
And if he could make his, seeme others sin,
O what repose, what ease he findes therein.
Idem.

Iniustice never scapes unpunisht still,
Though men revenge not, yet the heavens will.
Idem.
justice.

Now when the world with sin gan to abound,
Astraea loathing longer here to space
Mongst wicked men in whom no truth she found,
Returnd to heaven whence she derived her race,
Where she hath now an everlasting place.
Mongst those twelue signes which rightly we do see,
The heavens bright shining bawdrick to inchace:
And is the virgin sixt in her degree,
And next her self her self, her righteous ballance hanging bee.
Ed. Spencer.

Then iustice comes the last of all the gods,
That left her residence here on the earth:
For lacke of whom the world grew all at ods,
And man to man curses each others birth.
For then usurping wrong succeeded straight,
That no man knew how long to hold his right:
Then calls the world for justice back againe,
Complaining how they now were overrunne,
And they would suffer any scourging paine,
In pennance for those sinnes themselues had donne.
For that their wickednesse did force that power
To leave the seate whereas she sate before,
Whereas the Gods did in their courts decree,
justice should be transformed to the starres:
There foolish men might every minute see
Her that should helpe these miseries of theirs,
But stand like Tantalus within those brinkes,
Where he sees water, but yet never drinkes.
Ch. Middleton.

— Faire Astraea of the Titans line,
Whom equitie and iustice made divine.
M. Drayton.

— Well did the Anticke world inuent,
That justice was a God of soveraigne grace,
And Altars unto him and temples lent,
And heavenly honours in the highest place.
Calling him, great Osyris of the race,
Of th'old Aegyptian Kings, that whilome were,
With fained colours shading a true case:
For that Osyris whilest he lived here,
The iustest man alive and truest did aspire.
His wife was Isis, whom they likewise made
A goddesse of great power and soveraigntie:
And in her person cunningly did shade,
That part of justice which is equitie.
Ed. Spencer.

Vntill the world ftom his perfection fell,
Into all filth and foule iniquitie:
Astraea here mongst earthly men did dwell,
And in the rules of iustice then and stumbled well.
Idem.

Where justice growes, there growes eke quiet grace,
The which doth quench the brand of hellish smart,
And that accurst hand-writing doth deface.
Idem.

— Sparing justice, feeds iniquitie.
W. Shakespeare.

The first was Bacchus, that with furious might,
All th'east before untam'de did overrunne,
And wrong repressed and establisht right,
Which lawlesse men had formerly foredone,
Their iustice forc't her princely rule begunne.
Next Hercules, his like ensample shewed,
Who all the west with equall conquest wonne.
And monstrous Tirants with his club subdued,
The club of justice dread, with kingly power endued.
Ed. Spencer.

Who so upon himselfe will take the skill,
And justice unto people to devide,
Had need of mightie hands for to fulfill
That which he doth, with righteous doome decide,
And for to maister wrong and pvissant pride:
For vaine it is to deeme of things aright,
And make wrong doers justice to deride
Vnlesse it be performed with dreadlesse might,
For power is the right-hand of iustice truly hight.
Idem.

Offences urged in publike, are made worse,
The shew of justice aggravates despight:
The multitude that looke not to the cause,
Rest satsfied, so it be done by lawes.
S. Daniel.

It often falles in course of common life,
That right long time is overborne of wrong,
Through avarice or power, or guile, or strife,
That weakens her, and makes her partie strong,
But justice though her doome she do prolong.
Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.
Fd. Spencer.

Good causes need not curious termes, & equall judges heare
The equitie, not eloquence.
W. Warner.

Who passeth iudgement for his private gaine,
He well may iudge he is adiudged to paine.
R. Greene.
Kings.

Kings are the Gods vicegerents on the earth,
The Gods have power, Kings from that power have might:
Kings should excell in vertue and in birth:
Gods punish wrongs, & kings should maintaine right,
They be the sunnes from which we borrow light,
And they as Kings, should still in iustice strive
With Gods, from whom their beings they derive.
M. Drayton.

The baser is he comming from a King,
To shame his hopes with deeds degenerate:
The mightier man, the mightier is the thing,
That makes him honoured, or begets him hate:
For greater scandall waits on greater state.
The Moone being clouded, presently is mist,
But litle starres may hide them where they list.
The Crowe may bathe his cole-blacke wing in mire,
And unperceived, flie with the filth away,
But if she like the snow white swan desire,
The staine upon his siluer downe will stay,
Poore groomes are sightles nights, kings glorious day.
Gnats are unnoted wheresoever they flie,
But Eagles are gazed upon with every eie.
V V. Shakespeare.

— Since the heavens strong arms teach Kings, to stād,
Angells are plac't about the glorious throne,
To gard it from the stroakes of traitrous hand.
Th. Dekkar.

When thou becomest an earthly God, mens faults to oversee,
Forget not that eternall God, that overlooketh thee.
W. Warner.

The least part of a King is allowing him, and none
Lesse private then a Prince, the weale or woe of every one.
Idem.

He and his people make but one, a body, weake or strong,
As doth the head, the limbs, or limbs the head assist, or wrōg.
Idem.

Kings, Lords of times and of occasions,
May take th'aduantage when and how they list.
S. Daniell.

Kings will be alone, Competitors must downe,
Neare death he stands, that stands to weare a crowne.
Idem.

— It is a daungerous thing
In rule of love, but once to crosse a King.
M. Drayton.

Endles cares concur with crowns, a bitter sweeting is raign.
W. V Varner.

Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balme from an anoynted King:
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputie elected by the Lord.
W. Shakespeare.

He knowes not what it is to be a King,
That thinkes a Scepter is a pleasant thing.
R. Greene.

A glittering Crowne doth make the haire soone gray,
Within whose circle, a king is but arrested,
In all his feasts hee's but with sorrow feasted,
And when his feete disdaine to touch the mold,
His head's a prisoner in a jaile of Gold.
M. Drayton.

Vnhappy Kings that never can be taught,
To know themselues, or to discerne their fault.
S. Daniell.

— No outragious thing
From vassall actors can be wipte away,
The Kings misdeeds can not be hid in clay.
W. Shakespeare.

No Scepter serues dishonour to excuse,
Nor kingly vaile can cover villainie.
Fame is not subiect to authoritie.
M. Drayton.

— Thinke not but Kings are men, and as the rest miscarry,
Save that their fame and infamy continually doth tarry.
V V. Warner.

Kings want no meanes to accomplish what they will,
M. Drayton.

Mislikes are silly lets where Kings resolue them,
Where counsell chasing will hath emperie,
Deeds are too prest for reason to dissolue them,
In mightie mindes a grounded vanitie.
Like springs that ceassesse never stoppeth,
Vntill her neighbour Oake she overtoppeth.
D. Lodge.

— Great men too well graced, much rigor use,
Presuming favorites mischiefe ever bring:
So that concluding, I may boldly speake,
Minions too great, argue a king too weake.
S. Daniell.

New kings do feare when old kings farther straine,
Establisht state to all things will consent.
Idem.

— Good from kings must not be drawne by force.
Idem.

A Scepter like a pillar of great height,
Whereon a mightie bvilding doth depend:
Which when the same is over-prest with waight,
And past his compasse forc't thereby to bend.
His massie roofe downe to the ground doth send.
Crushing the lesser part, and murthering all
Which stand within the compasse of his fall.
M. Drayton.

Too true that tyrant Dyonisyus
Did picture out the image of a king:
When Damocles was placed in his throne,
And ore his head a threatning sword did hang,
Fastened up only by a horses haire.
R. Greene.
Kingdomes.

A rule there is, not failing but most sure,
Kingdome no kin doth know, •e can endure.
M. of M.

Thebes, Babell, Rome, these proud heauē daring wonders
Loe under ground in dust and ashes lie,
For earthly kingdomes, even as men do die.
I. Syluester. Transl.

If thou wilt mightie be, flie from the rage
Or cruell will, and see thou keep thee free
From the fowle yoake of sensuall bondage:
For though thy Empire stretcheth to Indian sea,
And for thy feare trembleth the farthest Thisce,
If thy desire have over thee the power,
Subiect then art thou, and no governour.
E. of Surrey.
Knowledge.

Through knowledge we behold the worlds creation,
How in his cradle first he fostered was:
And iudge of natures cunning operation,
How things she formed of a formelesse masse.
By knowledge we do learne our selues our selues to knowe,
And what to man, and what to God we owe:
From hence we mount aloft unto the skie,
And looke into the christall firmament:
There we behold the heavens great Hierarchie.
The starres pure light, the spheares swift movement,
The spirits and intelligences faire:
And Angels waiting on th'almighties chaire.
And there with humble mind and hie in sight,
Th'eternall makers maiestie we viewe,
His love, his faith, his glory and his might,
And mercy more then mortall men can viewe.
Ed. Spencer.

Soule of the world, knowledge withouten thee,
What hath the earth that's truly glorious.
Why should our pride make such a stirre to bee,
To be forgot? What good is like to this?
To do worthy the writing, and to write,
Worthy the reading, and the worlds delight.
S. Daniell.

What difference twixt man and beast is left,
When th'heavenly light of knowledge is put out,
And the ornaments of wisedome are bereft?
Then wandreth he in errour and in doubt,
Vnweeting of the daunger he is in,
Through fleshlesse frailtie, and deceit of sin.
Ed. Spencer.

— Our new knowledge hath for tedious traine,
A drouping life, an overracked braine:
A face forlorne, a sad and sullen fashion,
A restlesse toyle, and cares selfepining passion.
Knowledge was then even the soules soule for light,
The spirits calme port, and lanthorne shining bright.
To thait-stept feet cleare knowledge: not confusde,
Not sower but sweete, not gotten, but infusde.
I. Syl. Transl.

— We see to know, men still are glad,
And yet we see knowledge oft makes men mad.
S. I. H. Transl.

Who so knowes most, the more he knowes to doubt,
The best discourse, is commonly most stout.
S. Daniell.

— Common is rhe proofe
That enuying is not cunning if it standeth not aloofe.
W. Warner.

By knowledge thine, thou hast no name,
Least others know, thou knowest the same.
Skill comes too slow, and life so fast doth flie.
We learne so little, and forget so much.
I. Davies.
Vid. Learning.
Labour.

Where ease abounds, it's death to do amisse,
But who his limbs with labours, and his minde
Behaves with cares, cannot so easie misse:
Abroad in armes, at home in studious kinde,
Who seekes with painfull toyle, shall honor soonest finde.
Ed. Spencer.

Learne with the Ant in sommer to provide,
Drive with the Bee the drone from out the hive,
Build like the Swallow in the sommer tide.
D. Lodge.

Much labor is too litle, that should houshold charge defraye.
W. Warner.

— Industry well cherisht to his face,
In sun-shine walkes in spight of sower disgrace.
M. Roydon.

The noblest borne dame should industrious bee,
That which doth good, disgraceth no degree.
G. Chapman.

Let Mandevile example be to men not to be idle
In amorous passions: labour is to love at least a bridle ▪
W. Warner.

Adams labour in Eden.
— Edens earth was then so fertill and so fat,
That he made only sweet assaies in that.
Of skilfull industry and naked wrought,
More for delight, then for the gaine he sought.
In briefe, it was a pleasant exercise,
A labour likte, a paine much like the guise
Of cunning dauncers, who although they skip
Run, caper, vault, traverse and turne and trip,
From morne til even, at night againe full merry
Renew their daunce, of dauncing never weary:
Or els of hunters, that with happie lucke,
Rowsing betimes some often breathed bucke
Or goodly stagge, their yelping hounds uncouple,
Wind loud their horns, their hoopes & hallows double
Spurre on and spare not, following their desire:
Themselues unweary, though their hacknies tire.
But for in th'end of all their iollitie
Their's found much stifnesse, sweat and vanitie;
I rather match it to the pleasing paine
Of Angels pure, who ever sloth disdaine.
Or to the Suns calme course, who plainlesse aye
About the welkin poasteth night and day.
I. Syl. Transl.
Learning.

O blessed letters that combine in one
All ages past, and make one live withall:
By you we do conferre, with who are gone,
And the dead living unto counsaile call.
By you the unborne shall have communion
Of what we fe•le, and what doth best befall.
S. Daniell.

By the cleare beames of learnings light,
We tread the obscure pathes of Sages right.
Idem.

— But that learning in despight of fate
Will mount aloft and enter heaven gate:
And to the seat of jove it selfe it selfe aduance,
Hermes had slept in hell with ignorance.
Yet as a punishment they added this,
That he and povertie should alwaies kis.
And to this day is every scholler poore,
Grosse gold from them runnes headlong to the boore.
Ch. Marlowe.

Of little worth is learnings worthy skill,
Where Pilots wisedome is not perfect still.
Corinnaes praise, and Sapphoes are discerned
Above the rest, because they both were learned.
S. I. Harr. Transl.

K. Cecrops and his royall seed did honor Athence so,
As that from thence are said the springs of sciences to flow.
W. Warner.
Lechery.

Next unto him rode lustfull Lechery
Vpon a bearded Goat, whose rugged haire
And whally eyes (the signe of iealousie)
Was like the persons selfe whom he did beare,
Who rough and blacke and filthy did appeare:
Vnseemly man to please faire Ladies eie,
Yet he of Ladies oft was loved deare,
When fairer faces were bid standen by,
O who doth know the bent of womens fantasie?
Ed. Spencer.

Incontinence, dull sleepe, and idle bed,
All vertue from the world have banished.
The tickling flames which our fond soules surprize,
(That dead a while in Epilepsie lies)
Doth starke our sinewes all by little and little,
Drawing our reason in fowle pleasure brittle.
I. Syl. Transl.

Love comforteth like sun-shine after raine,
But lusts effect, is tempest after sunne:
Loves gentle spring doth alwaies fresh remaine,
Lusts winter comes ere sommer halfe be donne.
Love surfets not, but like a glutton dies,
Love is all truth, lust full of forced lies.
W. Shakespeare.

Where whoredome raignes, there murder follows fast,
As falling leaves before the winters blast.
R. Greene.

Lust is a fire, and for an houre or twaine ▪
Giveth a scorching blaze, and then he dies.
H. C.

O deeper sinne then bottomlesse conceit
Can comprehend in still imagination:
Drunken desire must vomit his receit,
Ere he can see his owne abhomination:
While lust is in his pride, no exclamation
Can cure his heate, or raigne his rash desire,
Till like a jade, selfe-will himselfe do tire.
W. Shakespeare.

Lust never taketh ioy in what is dve,
But leaves knowne delights to seeke out new.
S. Daniell.

In chastitie is ever prostitute,
Whose trees we loath when we have pluckt the fruite.
G. Chapman.

Eschue vile Venus toyes, she cuts off age,
And learne this lesson of (and teach thy friend)
By pocks, death sudden, begging, harlots end.
M. of M.

The lechars toong is never voyd of guile,
Nor Crocodile wants teares to win his praie:
The subtillest temptor hath the sweetest stile,
With rarest musicke, Syrens soonest betraie.
M. Drayton.

Lust puts the most unlawfull things in ure,
Nor yet in limits ever could be bounded,
Till he himselfe himselfe hath quite confounded.
Idem.

Abandon lust, if not for sin, yet to avoyd the shame,
So hogs of Ithacus his men the Latian witch did frame.
V V. Warner.

That great Phisition that had lived in helth & age admirde,
Did answer askt the cause, not he had done, as flesh desirde.
Idem.

The Spartans war for rapted queene to Ilions overthrow,
The Monarch of Assiria changed, and Latine kings also,
For Tarquins lust.
Idem.

Each house for lust a harbor and an Inne,
Each citie is a sanctuary for sinne.
And all do pitie beautie in distresse,
If beautie chaste, then onely pittilesse.
M. Drayton.
Lawes.

Derive thy lawes from wisest heads, to be upholden still,
Not adding or abstracting, as conceited tire brains will.
Encourage good men by thy love, reforme the bad by lawe,
Reserue an eare for either plea, and borrow leave of awe.
V V. Warner.

In vaine be counsells statutes, humaine lawes,
When chiefe of Councells pleades the iustest cause.
M. Drayton.

So constantly the judges conster lawes,
That all agree still with the stronger cause.
M. of M.

Pansamias and Lisander, by their swords
And warlike vertues made Lacaena rich,
Fame followed them where they the tents did pitch,
But grave Licurgus by his lawes and words,
Did merit more then these renowned Lords.
D. Lodge.

Licurgus for good lawes, lost his owne libertie,
And thought it better to prefer common commoditie.
G. Gascoigne.

That Lawyer thogh he more by art thē right doth overthrow
Consents to sin, deceives the judge, wrōg right is iustice foe.
V V. Warner.
Libertie.

Sweete libertie to us gives leave to sing,
What world it was where love the rule did beare,
How foolish chaunce by lots ruled every thing,
How errour was maine saile, each wave a teare.
The Mr. love himselfe; deepe sighes weare winde,
Cares rowd with vowes, the ship unmerry minde.
False hope as firme oft turned the boate about,
In constant faith stood up for middle mast,
Dispaire the cable, twisted all with doubt,
Held griping griefe the piked Anchor fast,
Bewtie was all the rockes.
W. Watson.

O liberty how much is that man blest,
Whose happie fortunes do his fa•es areede,
That for deserts reioyces to be freede?
Th. Storer.

Sweete libertie the lifes best living flame.
I. Markham.

Our lands may come againe, but libertie once lost,
Can never find such recōpence as counteruails the cost.
G. Gascoigne.

Learne freedome and felicitie, haukes flying where they list,
Be kindlier & more sound then haukes best tended to the •ist.
w. warner.

He lives to die a noble death, that life forefreed once spends.
Idem.

— The name of Libertie,
The watchword of rebellion ever usde,
The idle Eccho of uncertaintie
That evermore the simple hath abusde.
S. Daniell.
Life.

— All mans life me seemes a Tragedie,
Full of sad sighes and sore Catastrophes,
First comming to the world with weeping eie,
Where all his dayes like dolorous Trophies,
Are heapt with spoyles of fortune and of feare.
And he at last laid forth on balefull beare.
Ed. Spencer.

Our life is but a step in dustie way.
S. Phil. Sidney.

This mortall life as death is tride,
And death gives life.
M. Roydon.

What in this life we have or can desire,
Hath time of grow'th and moment of retire.
D. Lodge.

Our bodies, every foot-step that they make,
March toward death, untill at last they die:
Whether we worke or play, or sleep or wake,
Our life doth passe, and with times wings doth flie.
I. Davies.

The life of man a warfare right, in body and in soule,
Resignes his robbed carkasse to be rolled in the mould.
W. Warner.

— The terme of life is limited.
Ne may a man prolong or shorten it,
The souldier may not move from watchfull stid,
Nor leave his stand untill his captaine bid.
Ed. Spencer.

The longer life I wot the greater sin,
The greater sin, the greater punishment.
Idem.

Thus passeth with the overplus of life,
The pleasant spring and flower of mortall life:
The Aprils pompe once subiect to decay,
Returnes not in the bud that earst was rife.
Whilest mornings weepe, the lively flower doth bost,
Then pluck the stalke, and let not it be lost.
D. Lodge.

The sunne doth set and brings againe the day,
But when our life is gone, we sleepe for aye.
Th. Ach.

Sunne sets and riseth, goes downe and quickly reviueth,
But mans light once out, eternall darknesse abideth.
Ab. Fraunce.

All mortall men must from this life be gone,
Of life and death, there are more soules then one.
The greatest and most glorious thing on ground,
May often need the helpe of weakest hand,
So feeble is mans state, and life unsound,
That in assurance it may never stand,
Till it disordered be from earthly band.
Ed. Spencer.

— The restlesse life which men here lead,
May be resembled to the tender plant:
It springs, it sprouts, as babes in cradle breed,
Flourish in May, like youthes that wisedome want,
In Autumne ripe, and rots least store waxe scant.
In winter shrinkes and shrowdes from every blast,
Like crooked age, when lustie youth is past.
G. Gascoigne.

The wicked livers oftentimes have wicked ends.
S. I. H.

Life is not lost said she, for which is bought
Endles renowne, that more then death is to be sought.
Ed. Spencer.

Better it is for one to live obscure,
Then in a publike state to live unsure.
D. Lodge.

No life is blest that is not grac't with love.
B. Ihonson.

They double life that dead things griefe sustaine,
They kill, that feele not their friends living paine.
G Chapman.

That life's ill spared that's spared to cast more bloud.
S. Daniell.
Love.

Of Love's perfection perfectly to speake,
Or of his nature rightly to define:
Indeed doth farre surpasse our reasons reach,
And needs this priest t'expresse his power divine:
For long before the world he was yborne,
And bred above in Venus bosome deare,
For by his power the world was made of yore,
And all that therein wondrous doth appeare.
Ed. Spencer.

Love is the Lord of all the world by right,
And rules the creatures by his powerfull saw:
All being made the vassalls of his might,
Through secret sence, which thereto doth them draw.
Idem.

Vapour eterne in man, in beast, in tree,
In plant and flower is love, (and so of might)
For in the world may not contained bee,
Without accord and Loves imperiall right.
Yet wends the foxe in holy hood full oft,
And craft in stead of truth, beares crest aloft.
D. Lodge.

— That true Love which dauncing did inuent,
Is he that tuned the worlds whole harmonie,
And link't all men in sweete societie,
He first exaulted from th'earth mingled minde,
That heavenly fier or quintessence divine,
Which doth such sympathy in bewtie finde.
As is betwixt the Elme and fruitfull Vine,
And so to beautie ever doth encline.
Lifes life it is, and cordiall to the hart,
And of our better part, the better part.
I. Davies.

Sweete love is a celestiall harmonie,
Of likely hearts composed of hearts consent,
Which ioy together in sweete sympathie,
To worke each others kind and true content,
Which they have harboured since their first discent,
Out of these heavenly bowers, where they do see
And know each other here beloved to bee.
Ed. Spencer.

Iron with wearing shines, rust wasteth treasure
On earth, but Love there is no other pleasure.
H. Constable.

Love a continuall fornace doth maintaine.
Idem.

Wealth maister is, and porter of the gate,
That lets in love, when want shall come too late.
Th. Churchyard.

— Love to heaven is fled,
Since swearing lust on earth usurpt his name,
Vnder whose simple semblance he hath fled
Vpon fresh bewtie blotting it with blame,
Which the hot tyrant staines, and soone ber•aves,
As caterpillers, do the tender leaves.
W. Sh.

Love is a spirit all compact of fier,
Not grosse to sinke, but light and will aspire.
Idem.

Love is a golden bubble full of dreames,
That waking breakes, and fills us with extreames.
G. Chapman.

Love is a discord and a strange divorce,
Betwixt our sence and rest, by whose power,
As mad with reason, we admit that force,
Which wit or labour never may divorce.
It is a will that brooketh no consent,
It would refuse, yet never may repent.
— Love's a desire, which for to waight a time,
Doth loose an age of yeares, and so doth passe,
As doth the shadow severd from his prime,
Seeming as though it were, yet never was.
Leaving behind, nought but repentant thoughts,
Of dayes ill spent, of that which profits noughts.
It's now a peace, and then a sudden warre,
A hope consumde before it is conceived,
At hand it feares, and menaceth a farre,
And he that gaines, is most of all deceived.
Love whets the dullest wits his plagues be such,
But makes the wise by pleasing, dote as much.
E. O.

Love is a brain-sicke boy, and fierce by kind,
A wilfull thought, which reason cannot move,
A flattering Sycophant, a murdering theefe,
A poysoned choaking baite, a ticing greefe.
A Tyrant in his lawes, in speech unknowne,
A blindfold guide, a feather in the winde:
A right Chamelion for change of hew,
A lame-lime-lust, a tempest of the minde.
A breach of charitie, all vertues foe,
A private warre, a toilsome web of woe.
A fearefull iealousie, a vaine desire,
A labyrinth, a pleasing miserie,
A shipwracke of mans life, a smoakelesse fier,
A ship of teares, a lasting lunacie.
A heavie seruitude, a dropsie thirst,
A hellish jaile, whose captives are accurst.
Th. Watson.

A sugred harme, a poyson full of pleasure,
A painted shrine, ful-filled with rotten treasure.
An heaven in shew, a hell to them that prove,
A broken staffe, which fully doth uphold,
A flower, that fades with every frostie cold:
An Orient rose, sprung from a withered plant,
A game in seeming, shadowed still with want.
A minutes ioy to gaine a world of griefe,
A subtill net, to snare the idle minde,
A seeing scorpion, yet in seeing blinde,
A poore reioyce, a plague without teliefe,
D. Lodge.

Love is a smoake made with fume of sighes,
Being purged, a fier sparkling in Lovers eies,
Being vext, a sea, nourisht with loving teares,
What is it else? a madnesse most distrest,
A choaking gall, and a preseruing sweet.
W. Shakespeare.

It is a doubled griefe, a sparke of pleasure,
Begot by vaine desire, and this his love:
Whom in our youth, we count our chiefest treasure.
In age for want of power we do reprove,
Yea such a power is Love, whose losse is paine,
And having got him, we repent againe.
D. Lodge.

Love the Idle bodies worke and surfet of the eye.
W. Warner.

Love is but a terme, like as is Eccho but a voice,
That this doth babble, that doth breed, or not, is ours the choice.
W. Warner.

— Love is a subtill influence,
Whose finall force still hangeth in suspence.
D. Lodge.

Love is a wanton famine, rich in foode,
But with a riper appetite controlled,
An argument in figure and in moode:
Yet hates all arguments; disputing still,
For sence against reason, with a sencelesse will.
G. Chapman.

Of every ill the hatefull father vile,
That doth the world with sorceries beguile,
Cunningly mad, religiously prophane,
Wits monster, reasons canker, sences bane,
Love taught the mother that unkind desire,
To wash her hands in her owne Infants blood.
Love taught the daughter to betray her fire
Into most base and worthy seruitude:
Love taught the brother to prepare such foode;
To feast his brothers, that all seeing sunne
Wrapt in a cloude that wicked sight did shunne.
I. Davies.

Love is a sowre delight, a sugred griefe,
A living death, an ever dying life,
A breach of reasons law, a secret theefe,
A sea of teares, an everlasting strife.
A baite for fooles, a scourge of noble wits,
A deadly wound, a shot which ever hits,
Love is a blinded god, and angry boy,
A labyrinth of doubts, an idle lust,
A slave to bewties will, a witlesse toy.
A ravening bird, a tyrant most uniust,
A burning heate, a cold, a flattering ioy,
A private hell, a very world of woe.
Th. V Vatson.

— Love bewitcher of the wit.
The scorne of vertue, vices parasite,
The slave to weakenesse, friendships false bewraier,
Reasons rebell, fortitudes betraier.
The churchmēs staffe, court, camp, & countries guider,
Arts infection, chaste thoughts, and youths defiler.
I. V Veever.

Controlling Love, proud fortunes busie factor,
The gall of wit, sad melancholies schoole,
Heart-killing corsive, golden times detractor,
Life-fretting canker, mischiefes poysoned toole,
The Ideots ydle brother, wise mens foole.
A foe to friendship enemie to truth,
The wrong misleader of our pleasing youth.
M. Drayton.

— Love is roote and onely crop of care,
The bodies foe, the hearts annoy, & cause of pleasures rare.
The sicknesse of the minde, the fountaine of unrest,
The gulfe of guile, the pit of paine, of griefe the hollow chest:
A fiery frost, a flame that frozen is with Ice,
A heavie burden, light to beare, a vertue fraught with vice.
It is a worldlike peace, a safetie seeing dread,
A deepe dispaire, annext to hope, a fancie that is fed,
Sweete poyson for his taste, a port Charibdis like,
Ascylla for his safetie, though a Lyon that is meeke.
Th. Turberuile.

— O brawling love, O loving hate,
O any thing of nothing first created:
O heavie lightnesse, serious vanitie,
Mishapen Chaos of well seeing formes,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fier, sicknes, helth,
Still waking sleepe, that is not what it is.
W. Shakespeare.

Sight is his roote, in thought is his progression,
His childhood wonder, prentiship attention:
His youth delight, his age the soules opression,
Doubt is his sleepe, he waketh in inuention.
Fancie his foode, his cloathing carefulnesse,
Beautie his booke, his play, Lovers discention.
His eies are curious search, but vaild with warefulnesse,
His wings desire, oft clipt with desperation:
Largesse his hands, could never skill of sparefulnesse.
But how he doth by might or by perswasion,
To conquer, and his conquest how to ratifie,
Experience doubts, and schooles had disputation.
S. Ph. Sidney.

Love hath two shafts, the one of beaten gold,
By stroake whereof, a sweete effect is wrought:
The other is of lumpish leaden mold,
And worketh no effect but what is nought.
Th. Watson.

At Venus intreatie for Cupid her sonne,
These arrowes by Vulcan were cunningly done:
The first is Love, as here you may behold,
His feathers head and body are of gold.
The second shaft is Hate, a foe to love,
And bitter are his torments for to prove.
The third is Hope, from whence our comfort springs,
His feathers are puld from Fortunes wings.
Fourth, jealousie in basest mindes doth dwell,
This mettall Vulcans Cyclops sent from hell.
G. Peele.

Hard is the doubt, and difficult to deeme,
When all three kinds of love together meet:
And do dispart the heart with power extreame,
Whether shall waigh the ballance downe; to weet
The deare affection unto kindred sweet,
Or raging fier of love to woman kinde,
Or zeale of friends combinde with vertues meet.
But of them all the band of vertues minde,
Me seemes the gentle heart should most assured finde.
Ed. Spencer.

Of vertue onely, perfect love doth grow,
Whose first beginning though it be more slow
Then that of lust, and quickens not so fast:
Yet sure it is, and longer time doth last.
The strawe inkindles soone, and slakes againe,
But yron is slow, and long will heat retaine.
Th. Hudson.

Most true it is that true love hath no power
To looken back, his eyes be fixt before.
W. Sha.

Love alwaies doth bring forth most bounteous deeds,
And in each gentle heart desire of honor breeds.
True love is free, and led with selfe delight,
Ne will inforced be with masterdome or might.
Idem.

Love naked boy hath nothing on his backe,
And though he wanteth neither arme nor legge,
Yet maimed he is, sith he his sight doth lacke:
And yet (though blind) he bewtie can behold,
And yet though naked, he feeles more heat then cold.
H. C.

Love staies not long, it is but one yeares bird.
Th. Churchyard.

Love must have change to season sweet delight.
Idem.

Love, lawes and judges hath in fee,
Nature and use his iudges bee:
To whom his whole course censures flee,
Since past, and things to come they see.
G. Chapman.

Love is in power felt of all, in person found of none,
Or rather is not reall but some fancie; If not, then
Fantasticall in women, but essentiall in men.
W. Warner.

Loves eyes in viewing never have their fill.
W. Marlowe.

This is the least effect of Cupids dart,
To change the mind by wounding of the hart.
Th. Watson.

Vnto the woods runs love, as well as rides to the pallace,
Neither he beares reverence to a prince, nor pitie to beggere
But (like a point amidst of a circle) still of an evennesse,
All to a lesson he drawes, neither hills nor caves can avoyd him.
S. Phil. Sidney.

The throne of Cupid hath an easie staire,
His barke is fit to saile with every winde:
The breach he makes, no wise man can repaire.
Ed. Fairfax.

— Love will have his godhead seene
In famous queenes, and highest princes hearts.
S. I. H.

Love wants his eyes, yet shootes he passing right,
His shafts our thoughts, his bowe he makes our sight,
His deadly pilles are tempered with such art,
As still directs the arrow to the hart.
M. Drayton.

— Love doth raigne
In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous warre,
He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe:
And yet his peace is but continuall warre,
O miserable men, that to him subiect are.
Ed. Spencer.

First love is firme and toucheth very neare.
W. Warner.

Love unto life this cognizance doth give,
This badge, this marke, to every man that minds it:
Love lendeth life, which living cannot die,
Nor living, love.
G. Gascoigne.

Love is too full of faith, too credulous,
With folly and false hope deluding us.
Ch. Marlowe.

Love is not full of mercy as men say,
But deafe and cruell where he meanes to pray.
Idem.

Love paints his longings in sweet virgins eyes.
G. Chapman.

— Love gainsaid: growes madder then before.
Th. Watson.

Love findeth meane, but hatred knowes no measure.
Ed. Spencer.

As Bacchus opes dissembled harts,
So love sets out our better parts.
M. Roydon.

As love hath wreathes his pretie eyes to seare,
So lovers must keep secret what they feare.
D. Lodge.

Love keeps his revels where there are but twaine.
W. Shakespeare.

As Iris coate in sundry taints doth showe,
So love is clad in weale, and strait in woe.
D. Lodge.

Love can abide no law, love alwaies loves to be lawlesse,
Love altereth nature, rules reason, mastereth Olympus:
Lawes, edicts, deerees, contemnes jove mightily thundring.
jove that rules and raigns, that with beck bendeth Olympus.
Love caried Hyppolitus with briars & thorns to be mangled
For that he had the faire foule lusting Phedra refused.
Love made Absyrtus with sisters hands to be murdred
And in peeces torne, and here and there to be scattered.
Love forst Pasiphae mans company long to be loathing,
And for a while bulls flesh, bulls company long to be taking.
Love and luring lookes of lovely Polixena caused
Greekish Achilles death when he came to the church to be wedded.
Love made Alcides that most inuincible Heros,
Maister of all monsters, at length to be whipt of a monster.
Love drownd Leander, swimming to the beautifull He•o,
Vnto the towne Cestos, from towne of cursed Abydos.
Love made jove that's ruler of earth, and ruler of heaven,
Like to a silly shepheard, and like to the fruitfull Echidua.
Like to a fish, to a swan, a spawne, to a bull, to an eagle:
Sometimes Amphitrio, sometimes Dictinua resembling.
Ab. Fraunce.

Trifling attempts no serious acts aduance,
The fier of love is blowne by dalliance.
G. Chapman.

— Where there growes a sympathy of harts,
Each passion in the one, the other paineth:
And by even carryage of the outward parts,
(Wherein the actuall worke of love remaineth.)
The inward griefes, mislikes and ioyes are taught,
And every signe bewraies a secret thought.
D. Lodge.

Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
Ch. Marlowe.

O bold beleeving love, how hote it seemes,
Not to beleeve, and yet too credulous:
Thy weale and woe are both of them extreames,
Dispaire and hope makes thee ridiculous.
The one doth flatter the inthoughts unlikely,
The likely thoughts the other killeth quickly.
W. Sha.

Love goes towards love, as schoole boyes from their bookes,
But love from love toward schoole with heavy lookes.
Idem.

— Love can comment upon every woe.
Idem.

Cupids deep rivers have their shallow fordes
His griefe bring ioyes, his losse recompences.
He breeds the sore, and cures us of the paine,
Achilles launce, that wounds and heales againe.
Ed. Fairfax.

Wonder it is to see in divers mindes,
How diversly love doth his pageant play,
And shewes his power in variable kindes:
The baser wit whose idle thoughts alway
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay.
It stirreth up to sensuall desire,
And in leaud sloth to waste his carelesse day,
But in brave spirits it kindles goodly fire,
That to all hie desert and honour doth aspire.
Ed. Spencer.

Such ones, ill iudge of love that cannot love,
Ne in their frozen hearts feele kindly flame:
For thy they ought nothing unknowne reprove,
Ne naturall affection faultlesse blame.
For it of honor and all vertue is
The roote, and brings forth glorious fruites of fame.
That crowne true lovers with immortall blisse,
The meed of them that love, and do not live amisse.
Idem.

The persons must in passions iumpe else love is but a game,
Nor thinke I of a womans graunt, but as a wooers game.
W. Warner.

Pure love said she, the purest grace pursues,
And there is contract not by application:
Of lippes or bodies, but of bodies vertues,
As in our elementall motion.
Starres by their powers, which are their heat and light,
Do heavenly workes, and that which hath probation
By vertue all contract hath the noblest plight,
Both for the lasting and affinitie
It hath with naturall divinitie.
G. Chapman.

Love is a lord of truth and loyaltie,
Lifting himselfe out of the lowly dust:
On golden plumes up to the purest skie,
Above the reach of loathly sinfull lust.
Whose base affect through cowardly distrust
Of his weake wings dare not to heavens flie,
But like a mold warpe in the earth doth lie.
Ed. Spencer.

— One loving howre
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence,
A dramme of sweet, is worth a pound of sowre.
Idem.

Love and maiestie dwell ill together.
S. Daniell.

The ioyes of love, if they should ever last
Without affliction or disquietnes:
That worldly chaunces do among them cast,
Would be on earth too great a blessednes.
Liker to heaven then mortall wretchednes:
Therefore the winged God to let men weet
That here on earth is no sure happines,
A thousand sowres hath tempered with one sweet,
To make it seeme more deare and daintie as is meet.
Ed. Spencer.

True it is said, what ever man it said,
That love with gall and hony doth abound:
But if the one be with the other waid,
For every dramme of hony therein found,
A pound of gall doth over it abound.
Idem.

Love hath delight in sweet delicious fruite,
Love never takes good counsell for his friend.
Love author is, and cause of idle care.
Love is destraught of wit, he hath no end.
Love shooteth shafts of burning hot desire,
Love burneth more then either flame or fire.
Love doth much harme through jealousies assault.
Love once imbrac't will hardly part againe.
Love thinkes in breach of faith there is no fault.
Love makes a sport of others deadly paine.
Love is a wanton childe, and loves to brall,
Love with his warre brings many soules to thrall.
Th. Watson.

— Gods themselues are chaunged by Love,
jove steales from skies to lie by Laedaes side:
Arcas descends for faire Aglauraes sake,
And Sol so soone as Daphne is espide,
To follow his chariot doth forsake.
Idem.

— The sweetest honey,
Is loathsome in his owne deliciousnesse,
And in the tast confounds the appetite,
Therefore Love moderately long love doth so,
Too swift arrives as tardie as too slowe.
W. Shakespeare.

— The rights
In which Loves beautious empresse most delights,
Are banquets, Doricke musicke, midnight revelling,
Plaies, maskes, and all that sterne age counteth evill.
Ch. Marlowe.

Those easily men credit whom they love.
S. Daniell.

Play with the fire, yet die not in the flame,
Shew passion in thy words, but not in hart,
Least whē thou thinkest to bring thy thoughts in frame
Thou prove thy selfe thy selfe a prisoner by thy art.
Play with these babes of love, as Apes with glasses,
And put no trust in feathers, wind or lasses.
D. Lodge.

The greedie moone along her giddie spheare,
Boads not such change in her inconstant course,
No crinite comet in the waine of yeare,
No rising rage nor swelling of sourse.
As Love in shape, in substance and effect,
But Gods and men with fury doth infect,
A morning starre (that peereth from the pride
Of siluer floate) bedewed and sparkling bright,
Borne from the second forme of waters glide,
The queene of Love, the mistresse of delight.
Aye such is love in semblance at the first,
But his effects are cruell and accurst.
D· Lod,

Albeit bewtie moves to love, and love doth make thee sve,
Better at first be nonsuite, then at length not to subdue.
W. Warner.

It hath bene when as heartie love did treat and tie the knot,
Though now if gold but lacking be, the wedding fadgeth not.
Idem.

Love learnes rural wits and base borne brats to be reading,
Heartburning secrets, and wonders daintily written,
In faire flaming eyes, by the hand of lovely Cupido.
A. Fraunce.

Love nill consent that bewties fiel• lie waste.
Ed. Fairfax.

Tis often seene, Love workes a man a weake deiected minde,
For ever seene, a womans love doth alter as the winde.
W· Warner.

No stile is held for base, where love well named is,
Each eare suckes up the words a true love scattereth.
S. Ph. Sydney.

All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy,
Then losse of love to him that loves but one,
Ne may love be compeld by maisterie,
For as soone as maisterie comes sweete love anon:
Taketh his nimble wings, and soone is gone.
Ed. Spencer.

For every pleasure that in love is found,
A thousand woes and more therein abound.
Th. Watson.

Like as a nibling fish that halfe mistrusts
The golden shew of an enticing baite,
Makes many offers for the thing she lusts,
Daring to deale with that she deemes deceite:
So plaies the amorous God with his faire prize,
Whom love and lust bids board, but shame denies.
Ch. Middleton.

From these hie hills as when a spring doth fall,
It thrilleth downe with still and subtill course,
Of this and that it gathereth aide, and shall
Till wit have iust done, flowed to streame and force,
Then at the foote, it rageth over all:
So fareth Love when he hath tane a course.
Rage is vaine resistance vaileth none,
The first issue is remedie alone.
E. of Surrey.

Not all the writs Diana hath, can Cupids plaint remove.
W. Warnaer.

— Lordly Love is such a Tyrant fell,
That where he rules, all power he doth expell.
Ed. Sp.

If Love compelled be and cannot chuse,
How can it gratefull or thanke worthy prove?
Love must free harted be and voluntary,
And not enchaunted or by fate constrained.
Nor like that love which did Vlisses carry,
To Circes Ile with mightie charmes.
I. Davies.

Where heate of Love doth once possesse the hart,
There cares oppresse the minde, with wondrous ill,
Wit runnes awrie, not fearing subtill smart,
And fond desire doth ever maister will.
The belly neither cares for meate nor drinke,
Nor overwatched eyes desite to winke.
Footesteps are false, and wavering too and fro,
The brightsome flower of beautie fades away,
Reason retires, and pleasure brings in woe,
And wisedome yeeldeth place to blacke decay.
Councell and fame, and friendship are condemned,
And bashful shame, and Gods themselues contēned.
Watchfull suspect is kindled with dispaire,
Inconstant hope is often drownd in feares:
What folly hurts not, fortune can repaire,
And miserie doth swim in seas of teares.
Long use of life is but a living foe,
As gentle death is onely end of woe.
Th. Watson.

Vnlawfull meanes doth make love lawfull gaine,
He speakes most true when he the most doth faine.
M. Drayton.

As many bees, as Hybla daily sheelds,
As many frie as fleet in Oceans face,
As many heards as on the earth do trace,
As many flowers as deckt the fragrant fields,
As many starres as glorious heaven containes,
As many cloudes as wayward winter weepes,
As many plagues as hell enclosed keepes.
So many griefes in Love, so many paines,
Suspitions, thoughts, desires, opinions, praiers,
Mislikes, misdeeds, fond ioyes, and fained peace,
Illusions, dreames, great paines, and small encrease,
Vowes, hope, acceptance scornes and deepe dispaires.
D. Lodge.

The gnawing enuie, the heartfretting feare,
The vaine surmises, the distinctfull shewes,
The false reports that flying tales do beare,
The doubts, the dangers, the delaies, the woes,
The fained friends, the unexpected foes,
With thousand more then any tongue can tell,
Do make a Lovers life a wretches hell.
Ed. Spencer.

Tis folly by our wisest worldlings proved,
If not to gaine by love) to be beloved,
B. Ihonson.

Against Loves fier feares frost hath dissolution.
W. Shakespeare.

— Greater conquest of hard Love he gaines,
That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines.
Ed. Spencer.

•nto a Knight there is no greater shame,
•hen lightnes and inconstancie in love.
Idem.

•oves weeping flames, by reason do subdue
•efore their rage grow to so great unrest,
•s miserable lovers use to rve,
•hich stil wax old in woes whilest woe stil waxeth new
Ed. Spencer.

Old Love is litle worth when new is more preferd.
Idem.

Who can shew all his love, can love but lightly.
S. Daniell.

No man from the monarch love by wit or weapō flies.
W. Warner.

— Loftie Love doth loathe a lowly eye.
Ed. Spencer.

Love thrives not in the heart, that shadowes dreadeth.
W. Shakespeare.

Gather I say, the Rose while it is time,
For soone comes age that will her pride deflame:
Gather the Rose of Love while yet is time,
Whilest loving, thou maiest loved be with equall aime.
Ed. Sp.

O learne to love, the lesson is but plaine,
And once made perfect, never lost againe.
V V. Shakespeare.

Lovers their loved Ladies loves to gaine
Promise, protest and sweare without regard,
That God doth see and know their falshood still,
And can and shall revenge it at his will.
Their oathes but words, their words are all but wind,
Vttered in heart, and with like heart forgotten,
As bundles are trust up coards all rotten.
Coinesse is nought, but worst to be too kind;
Men care not for the good that soone is gotten:
But women of their wits may chiefly boast,
That are made wiser by an others cost.
S. I. H.

He that bindes himselfe in worthy bands,
Although his shew but grace him small:
Although he finde no favour at her hands,
Sharp words, coy lookes, small thanks, hope none at all,
Though more and more, aloofe from him she stands:
Yet for his heart and thoughts be highly placed,
He must not mourne, although he die disgraced.
Idem.

Dumbe Swans, not chattering Pies do Lovers prove,
They love indeed, who dare not say they love.
S. Ph. Sydney.

The Lover and beloved are not tied to one Love.
V V. Sh.

He that on Loves blind snares once sets his foote,
Seemeth to draw it backe, but findes it caught,
And madnesse meere in Love to overshoote,
The foole hath felt, the wise hath ever taught.
And though in all alike it take not roote,
Yet all shall finde, Love is a thing of nought.
For sure it is, an open signe of madnesse,
To have an others pleasure breed thy sadnesse.
S. I. Harrington.

The birds their beake, the lion hath his taile,
And lovers nought but sighes and bitter moane,
The spotlesse force of fancie to assaile.
D. Lodge.

Sweete are the kisses, the embracements sweete,
When like desires, and affections meete:
For from the earth to heaven is Cupid raised,
Where fancie is in equall ballance peized.
Ch. Marlowe.

Foule words and frownes must not repell a Lover,
What though the Rose hath prickles, yet tis pluckt,
Were bewtie under twentie locks kept fast,
Yet Love breakes through, and breakes them all at last,
W. Shakespeare.

— Lovers houres are long, though seeming short,
If pleasde themselues, others they delight:
In such like circumstance, with such like sport,
Their copious stories oftentimes begun,
End without audience, and are never done.
Idem.

A Lover may bestride the Gossamours,
That Idles in the wanton sommer aire,
And yet not full so light is vanitie.
Idem.

The Dutch in love is proude, Italians enuious,
The French man full of mirth, the Spanyard furious.
Magicke.

Three kindes there are for natures skill:
The first they naturall do name,
In which by hearbes and stones they will
Worke wondrous things, and worthy fame.
The next is Mathematicall,
Where Magicke workes by nature so,
That brazen heads make speake it shall,
Of woods, birds, bodies, flie and go,
The third Veneficall, by right
Is named, for by it they make
The shape of bodies changed in sight
And their formes on them to take.
M. of M.

— Oh who can tell
The hidden power of hearbes, and might of magicke skill?
Ed. Spencer.
Man.

In time conuenient this world Almightie created,
And it a large theater to behold, his glory appointed:
Which whē he had with store of treasures richly replenisht,
And with aboundant grace causd every part to be furnisht,
Man was made at length, Adam was quickly created
Most perfect creature, and like to the mightie Creator,
Good wit, immortall, of mankind only beginner.
But proud ambition the serpent craftily cloaking,
With curst and bitter sweete, his cankred poyson abounding.
Adam dispossest of pleasant beautifull harbors.
Adams heart possest with most unspeakable horrors.
Man was mard at length, Adam was fouly defaced.
Last worke and lost worke, Adam was filthily fowled:
Most cursed creature, unlike to the mightie Creator,
Bad, foolish, mortall, of mankind only the murderer.
A. France.

— Vile man begot of clay, and borne of dust.
Ed. Fairfax.

Man composed first of slime,
Doth live to lead his daies in strife:
And as the heavens do that dispose,
So shuts and spreads he with the rose.
D. Lodge.

Time over old and yoong is still revolued,
Within it selfe it selfe, and never tasteth end:
But mankind is to nought for aye reserued,
The filthy snake her aged coat can mend.
And getting youth againe, in youth doth flourish:
But unto man age ever death doth send.
The very trees with grafting we can cherish:
So that we can long time produce their time,
But man which helpeth them, helplesse must perish.
S. Phil. Sidney.

O trustlesse state of miserable men,
That bvild your blisse on hope of earthly thing:
And vainly thinke your selues your selues halfe happie then,
When painted faces with smooth flattering
Do fawne on you, and your wide praises sing.
And when the courting masker louteth low,
Him free in heart, and trustie too you know.
Ed. Spencer.

He that comparde mans body to a hoaste,
Said that the hands were scouts discovering harmes:
The feet were horsemen thundering on the coaste.
The brest and stomacke foe men, huge in swarmes,
But for the head in soveraigntie did boast,
It captaine was, directer of alarmes.
Whose rashnesse if it hazarded any ill,
Not he alone, but all the hoast did spill.
I. Markeham.

Each creature not grudging at mans glorie,
Vnto his life becomes contributorie.
Idem.

Like flouds in sommer, or flowing springs in the winter,
So man consumeth:
No trust or firmenesse in life, that flies like a shadow?
What then alas is man
That so presumeth?
D. Lodge.

The shadow of the clocke by motion wends,
We see it passe, yet marke not when it parts:
So what is mans declines, and sudden ends,
Each thing begins, continues and conuerts.
Idem.

— Man to woman giveth all perfection,
And as our chiefe Philosophers do say,
Woman by man is perfect made each way.
I. Weever.

— Man is loaden with ten thousand languors,
All other creatures only feele the angors
Of fewe diseases; as the gleaming quaile,
Only the falling sicknes doth assaile.
The turne-about and murraine trouble cattle,
Madnesse and quincie bid the mastife battle.
I. Siluester.

•t doth exceed mans thought to thinke how hie
God hath raisd man, since God a man became:
The Angels do admire this mysterie,
And are astonisht when they view the same.
I. Davies.

Men do not know what they themselues will bee,
When as more then themselues, themselues they see.
S. Daniell.

•ike as the fatall raven that in his voyce
•arries the dreadfull summons of our deaths,
•ies by the faire Arabian spiceries,
•er pleasant gardens and delightfull parts,
•eeming to curse them with his hoarse exclaimes:
•nd yet doth stoupe with hungry violence,
•pon a peece of hatefull carrion.
So wretched man displeased with those delights,
Would yeeld a quickning savour to his soule,
Pursues with eager and unstanched thirst,
The greedy longings of his loathsome flesh.
G. Peele.

Man is a little world, and beares the face
And picture of the universitie:
All but resembleth God, all but is glasse,
All but the picture of his maiestie.
Man is the little world (so we him call)
The world the little God, God the great all.
Th. Bastard.

The gallant courser in his full carrire
Is made by man to stoppe with slender raine:
But man himselfe his lust and fond desire
Is sildome drawne by reason to refraine.
Tis hard to stop, but harder to retire,
When youthfull course ensueth pleasure vaine.
As beares do breake the hives and weake defences,
When smell of hony commeth to their sences.
S. I. H.

Great Pompey in the midst of victorie,
All unexpected happened to his end:
And Caesar in his greatest maiestie
Vntimely murdered by his dearest friend.
Such are mens best estates, more wretched they,
In greatest pompe most subiect to decay.
Ch. Midleton.

What doth make men without the parts of men,
Or in their manhoods lesse then children
But manlesse natures? all this world was namded
A world of him for whom it first was framde
(Who like a tender cheverell shrunke with fire
Of base ambition, and of selfe desire)
His armes into his shoulders crept, for feare
Bountie should use them, and fierce rape forbeare,
His legs into his greedy belly runne,
The charge of hospitalitie to shunne)
In him the world is to a lumpe reverst:
That shrunke from forme that was by forme disperst.
And in nought more then thanklesse avarice,
Not rendring vertue her deserued price.
G. Chapman.

Like as rude Painters that contend to showe
Beasts, fowles, or fish, all artlesse to bestowe
On every side his native counterfet,
Above his head his name had need to set.
So men that will be men in more then fate
(As in their forheads) should in actions place
More perfect characters to prove they be
No mockers of their first nobilitie.
Els may they easily passe for beasts or foules,
Soules praise our shapes, and not our shapes our soules.
Idem.

When as men all do know, then nothing know.
S. Daniell.

— The milder passions doth show man.
For as the leafe doth bewtifie the tree,
The pleasant flowers bedeck the flourishing spring,
Euen so in men of greatest reach and power,
A mild and piteous thought augments renowne.
D. Lodge.

No man before his end is truly blest.
T. Dekkar.

— Man to man, as beast to beast, holds civil duties vain.
W. Warner.

Mans inward parts are colder and the nummer,
When outwardly they feele a boyling sommer.
Mans voyce in every ones opinion, is but an airie repercussion ▪
D. Lodge.
Marriage.

Hymen that now is god of nuptiall rights,
And crownes with honor love and his delights.
G. Chapman.

Before them on an altar he presented
Both fire and water, which was first inuented:
Since to ingenerate every humane creature
And every other birth producest by nature,
Moysture and heate, must mix, so man and wife
For humane race, must joine in nuptiall life.
Idem.

— In Athence
The custome was, that every mayd did weare
During her maydenhead, a silken spheare:
About her waste above her inmost weed
Knit with Mineruaes knot, and that was freed
By the faire bridegroome on the mariage night,
With many ceremonies of delight.
Idem.

Shouldst thou but dream what mariage is, thou wouldst not live a maid,
One hart of two, two soules of one, by wedlocke is conuaid.
V V. Warner.

Beleeve me man, there is no greater blisse,
Then is the quiet ioy of loving wife:
Which who so wants, halfe of himselfe doth misse.
Friend without change, play-fellow without strife.
Food without fulnesse, counsaile without pride,
Is this sweet doubling of our single life.
S. Phil. Sidney.

In choyce of wife, preferre the modest chaste,
Lillies are faire in shew, but foule in smell:
The sweetest lookes by age are soone defaste,
Then choose thy wife by wit and loving well.
Who brings thee wealth, and many faults withall,
Presents thee hony mixt with bitter gall.
D. Lodge.

Wild savages that drinkes of running springs,
Thinkes water faire, exceeds all other things.
But they that daily taste meate, nere despi•e it,
Virginitie, al be some highly prise it,
Compared with marriage, had you tride them both,
Differs as much, as wine and water doth.
Ch. Marlow.

All touch sweet, tast sweet, eie sweet, eare sweet, sweet sence, sweet sou•e is,
A vertuous match, but vicious love in all contrary this.
W. Warner.

One is no number, maides are nothing then
Without the sweet societie of men.
Ch. Marlow.

— Marriage will soone destroy
Those passions which to youthfull head do clime,
Mothers and nurses of all vaine annoy.
Idem.

— Wretched wedlock breeds but hated heat,
Where no love seemes so sweet, as stolen and secret.
D. Lodge.

Offer no love rights, but let wives still seeke them,
For when they come unsought, they sildom like them.
B. johnson.

— Euen as Adam wrote his overthrow
By tasting fruite that God did him forbid,
So he that curiously will search to know
All that his wife hath said, or what she did,
May fortune at the last himselfe beshrow.
S. I. H.

Let him that his wife to his bent will drawe,
Match with a virgin and keepe her in awe.
To love, and wed for love, is perfit blisse.
G. Turb.

His be the hurt that lookes not ere he wed.
The husband may the woman make or marre.
Idem.

We are not male nor female borne, that we should fruitlesse die.
W. Warner.

— Experience bidding us, doth bid us lay to thrive.
The first degree to which say some, is warily to wine:
But wife if shrow or saint become (as not unlike) a shrow,
Then is that first degree to thrift, the third degree in woe.
Idem.

Let nothing severe those whom God doth linke.
S. I. H.

— The chance that once befell
To wandring Dina, may be witnesse well
That secret mariage that to fewe is kend,
Doth never lead the lovers to good end.
For of our bodies we no power may claime,
Except our parents do confirme the same.
Th. Hud.

We worldly folkes account him very wise,
That hath the wit most worthily to wed,
By all meanes therefore, alwaies we devise
To see our issue rich in spousall fed,
We bvy and sell rich Orphans; babes scant bred
Must match, ere they do know what marriage meanes:
Boyes marrie old trots, old fooles wed yoong queanes.
We call this wedding, which in any wise
Can be no marriage, but pollution plaine:
A new found trade of humaine marchandize,
The divells net, a filthy fleshly gaine,
Of kind and nature, an unnaturall staine:
A foule abuse of Gods most holy order,
And yet allowed almost in every border.
M. of M.

A filthy trull, is irksome to the eie,
A gallant gyrle allures the lookers mind:
A wanton wench will have the head to die,
An aged trot to like, is hard to find.
A bearing wife with brats, will cloy the store,
A greater care then childrens care is none:
A barren beast will grieve thee ten times more,
No ioy remaines when sappe of fruite is gone.
Wherefore let wiving goe live single aye,
A shrew we see is wedded on a day,
But ere a man can shift his hands tis long.
G. Turb.
Maladie.

Fast by old age pale Maladie was plac't,
Sore sicke in bed her colour all forgone,
Bereft of stomacke, savour, and of taste,
Ne could she brook no meate but broaths alone.
Abhorring her, her sicknesse past recure,
Detesting phisicke, and all phisicks cure.
M. i Sackuill.

Sicknesse the herauld of armes, hearts, and all.
Th. Storer.

Th'humorous sicke, removing, find no ease,
When chaunged chambers helpe not the disease.
S. Daviell.

— O sicknesse thou art oft betide,
When death hath many woes to come beside.
Idem.
Might.

The meanest fault is hie offence, urged of a mighty foe.
W. Warner.

To shadow sinne Might can the more pretend.
M. Dr.

— Might is ever absolute alone,
When of two powers ther's true coniunctione.
Idem.

Power constrained is but a glorious slave.
Ed. Fairfax.

— Slight, force, are mightie things,
From which, much, if not most, earths glory springs:
If vertues selfe were clad in humaine shape,
Vertue without these, might go beg and scrape.
I. Marston.

Vnited powers, makes each the stronger prove.
S. Ph. Sydney.

— Honey words make foolishnesse,
And power the greatest wit with error blinds.
D. Lodge.

All as the highest trees do sheeld the shrubs,
From posting Phlegons warmth, and warming fier,
So mightie men obscure each others fame,
And make the best deseruer fortunes game.
Idem.

— Excellencie never beares this minde,
By no inferiour skill to be definde.
Th. Storer.

Where power decreed hath to find th'offence,
The cause is better still, then the defence.
S. Daniell.
Miserie.

His face was leane and some deale pinde away,
And eke his hands consumed to the bone:
But what his body was I cannot say,
For on his carkasse, rayment had he none.
Save cloutes and patches peeced one by one,
With staffe in hand, and scrippe on shoulder cast,
His chiefe defence against the winters blast.
His food for most, was wilde fruites of the tree,
Vnlesse sometimes, some crummes fell to his share,
Which in his wallet long, God-wot kept he,
As one the which full daintily would fare:
His drinke the running streame his cup, the bare
Of his palme clozd, his bed the hard cold ground,
To this poore life, was Miserie ybound.
M. Sackuill.

— This Iron world
Brings downe the stoutest hearts to lowest state,
For Miserie doth bravest mindes abate,
And makes them seeke for that they wont to scorne,
Of fortune and of hope, at once forlorne.
Ed. Spencer.

— He hath a foolish fantasie,
That thinkes to find a friend in miserie.
G. Gascoigne.

O Miserie, where once thou art possest,
How soone thy faint infection alters kind,
And like a Circe, turnest man to beast,
And with the body dost transforme the mind,
That can in fetters our affection bind.
M. Drayton.

— Miserie is troden on by many,
But being lowe, never relieved by any.
W. Shakespeare.

— The mightiest that have lived,
Have falne and headlong too, in Miserie,
It is some comfort to have companie.
G. Peele.

Men flie from foes, but not from Miserie.
M. Drayton.

Let him that sees his private Miserie
Auoyd the prospect of prosperitie:
It breeds pale enuie, and sad discontent
Procures offence before a profered wrong.
Torments it selfe it selfe till all conceits are spent,
And thoughts delivered by malitious tongue,
Then rapt with violent fury goes so strong,
That it enuenomes all our humaine parts,
Blind iudging in eyes, and sence confounding harts.
Th. Storer.
Melancholy.

— Melancholy from the splene begunne,
By passion moved, into the vaines doth runne:
Which when this humour as a swelling floud,
By vigour is infused in the bloud,
The vitall spirits doth mightily appall,
And weakeneth so the parts Organicall,
And when the sences are disturbed and tired,
With what the heart incessantly desir'd·
Like travellers with labour long opprest,
Finding reliefe, eftsoones they fall to rest.
M. Drayton.

Thou nursing mother of faire wisedomes lore,
Ingenious Melancholy.
I. Marston.

Those men to Melancholy given, we Saturnists do call.
V V. Warner.
Memorie.

This Lidger booke lies in rhe braine behinde,
Like janus eye which in his poll was set:
The lay mans table, Storehouse of the minde,
Which doth remember much, and much forget.
I. Davies.

Here sences apprehensions end doth take,
As when a stone is into water cast:
One circle, doth an other circle make,
Till the last circle touch the banke at last.
Idem.

Remēbrance is the life of grief, his grave forgetfulnes.
Ed. Fairfax.

Remembrance fresh, makes weakened sorrows strong.
Idem.
Mischiefe.

The cause once gone, th'ffects thereof surcease,
And mischiefes being prevented whilest they are yong
Cannot braunch forth themselues to do that hurt,
That time, their natures, and bad men would worke.
Ch. Middleton.

A Mischife seene may easily be prevented,
But being hapt, not helpt, yet still lamented.
M. Drayton.

Faire goodnesse is foule ill, if mischiefes wit,
Be not represt from leaud corrupting it.
Idem.

Mischiefe is oft made good by speeding well.
S. Daniell.
Mercie.

Some Clarkes do doubt in their devisefull art,
Whether this heavenly thing whereof I treat,
To weeten Mercie be of justice part,
Or drawne forth from her by divine extreat.
This well I wot, that sure she as great,
And meriteth to have so hie a place:
She first was bred and borne of heavenly race,
From thence powred downe of men by influence of grace.
Ed. Spencer.

O who shall shew the countenance and gestures
Of Mercie and iustice; which faire sacred sisters,
With equall poize do ever ballance even,
Th'unchaunging proiects of the King of heaven.
Th'one sterne of looke, th'other mild aspecting,
The'one pleasd with teares, th'other bloud affecting:
Th'one beares the sword of vengeance unrelenting,
Th'other brings pardon for the true repenting.
I. Syluicter.

— Still as rage kindleth the fire of wrath,
Mercie to quench it, store of water hath.
S. I. Harrington.

— This noble vertue and divine,
Doth chiefly make a man so rare and od,
As in that one, he most resembleth God.
Idem.

Then come we nearest to the Gods on hie,
When we are farthest from extremitie,
Giving forth sentence of our Lawes with Mercie.
Tho. Achely.

Mercie may mend whom malice made offend,
Death gives no thankes, but checks authoritie,
So Rulers mildnesse, subiects love do nourish.
S. Daniell.

Soft pittie enters at an Iron gate.
V V. Sh.

Mercie but murders, pardoning those that kill.
Idem.

Pittie drawes love bloud-shed, as natures griefe,
Compassion, followeth the unfortunate.
S. D.

V Vhen pittie runneth afore, love alwaies followeth after,
A. Fraunce.

As it is greater praise to save then spill,
So better to reforme, then to cut off the ill.
Ed. Spencer.

How deare is mercie having power and will,
When pittie helpes where equitie doth kill?
M. Drayton.
Minde.

The Minde hath in it selfe it selfe a deitie,
And in the stretching circle of her eie,
All things are compast, all things present still
Will framed to power, doth make us what we will.
G. Chapman.

It is the minde that maketh good or ill,
That makes a wretch, or happie, rich or poore,
For some that have a boundance at their will,
Have not inough, but want in greatest store.
An other that hath little, askes no more,
But in that little is both rich and wise.
Ed. Spencer.

The Minde is free what ere afflict the man,
A King's a King, do fortune what she can.
M. Drayton.

— The Minde times enemie, oblivions foe,
Disposer true of each note worthy thing.
Ed. Fairfax.

Our mindes discerne where eies could never see.
M. Draiton.

— That Minde most is bewtifull and hie,
And nearest comes to a divinitie,
That farthest is from spots of earthes delight,
Pleasures that loose their substance with their sight,
Such one Saturnius ravisheth to love,
And fills the cup of all content to jove.
G. Chapman.

The setled mind is free from fortunes power,
They need not feare who looke not up aloft:
But they that are too carefull every hower,
For when they fall they light not very soft.
M. of M.

What plague is greater then the griefe of minde?
The griefe of mind that eates in every vaine:
In every vaine that leaves such clods behinde,
Such clods behind as breed such bitter paine.
So bitter paine that none shall ever finde
What plague is greater then the griefe of minde.
E. of Ox.

Ill mind, to mind so much of others ill,
As to become unmindfull of his owne.
Ed. Spencer.

Into our minds let us a little fall,
And we shall finde more spots then leopards have.
S. Phil. Sidner.

O vanitie of mans unstable minde,
Puft up with every blast of friendly winde.
Ed. Fairfax.

In base minds no friendship dwels, nor emnitie.
Ed. Spencer.

Oft times we see that sorrowes of the minde
Finde remedie unsought, which seeking cannot finde.
Ed. Spencer.

Weak body wel is changed, for minds redoubled force.
Idem.

So move our minds, as motions move the aire.
M. of M.

Nor is it his our minds that make our native homes our grave,
As we to ours, others to theirs, like parciall fancie have.
Transmut we but our minds, and then all one an alien is,
As if a native once resolued, makes every country his.
W. Warner.
Monarchs.

Augustus quailing Anthony, was Emperour alone,
In whose unfoed Monarchy our common health was knowne
W. Warner.

A mighty monarch must whilest greening youth doth flowe,
Make one or two or three proofes of his peerles power:
For valour is the gate of honour beautified,
The first staire step it is, wherby good hap doth guide,
Our feete to glories mount; and nothing hartens so
The men of armes to fight, as valiant prince (we know)
But afterward he must with wary wisedome warre:
More often with his wit, then with his weapon farre.
And feeding so his spirit with sweet sharpe easie paine
Not keep a souldiers place, but captains roome retaine.
I. Syluester.

Mildnesse fitteth maiestie, hie minds are disalowed.
W. Warner.

No man from the Monarch love by wealth, or weapon flies.
Idem.

Mildnesse would better svite with maiestie
Then rash revenge and rough severitie.
M. Dray.
Murder.

Black hell-bred humor of fier-venging sin,
By whose inticements murders we commit:
The end unthought of, rashly we begin,
Letting our passion overwhelme our wit.
Who may and will not, murder in truth committeth.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Vnpunisht scapes, from hainous crime some one,
But unrevenged, in mind and body none.
Idem.

The cruell man a cruell death shall tast,
And blood with blood be venged at the last.
I. Syl.

Those that in blood such violent pleasure have,
Seldome descend but bleeding to their grave.
B. johnson.

Vengeance on minde the fretting furies take,
The sinfull corps like earth-quake agues shake.
Their frowning lookes, their troubled minds bewray,
In hast they run, and midst their race they stay.
As gidded Doe: amidst their speech they whist,
At meate they muse; no where they may persist.
But some feare netleth them, aye hang they so,
So never wants the wicked murderer woe.
M. of M.
Muses.

Imps of K. jove, and Queene remembrance loe,
The Sisters nine, the Poets pleasant pheers:
Calliope doth stately style bestowe,
And worthy praises paints of princely peers.
Clio in sullen songs reneweth all day,
With present yeares conjoining age by past,
Delightfull talke, loves comicall Thalia.
In fresh green youth, who doth lawrell tast.
With voyces tragicall sounds Melpomen,
And as with chaines th' allured eares she binds,
Her strings when Terpsichore doth touch, even then
She toucheth hearts, and raigneth in mens minds,
Fond Erato, whose looke a lovely cheare
Presents in dauncing, beares a comely grace,
With seemly gesture doth Polhymnie stirre place.
Whose words whole routs of rankes doo rule,
Vraine her globes to view are bent,
The nine-fold heaven obserues with fixed face,
The blessed Eutrope tunes her instrument
With solace sweete, hence heavy dumps to chace,
Lord Phaebus in the midst whose heavenly spirit
These Ladies doth inspire.
E. of Surrey.

The golden brood of great Apolloes witte.
Ed. Spencer.

Sweet Lady Muses, Ladies of delight,
Delights of life, and ornaments of light.
Idem.

Then followed on the Muses sacred nine,
With the first number equally divine:
In virgins white, whose lively mayden browes
Were covered with tryumphant lawrell browes:
And on their garments painted out in glory,
Their offices and functions in a story:
Imblazoning the fury and conceat
Which on their sacred company await.
M. Drayton.

From these the Muses only are derived,
Which of the Angels were in nine contrived,
These heavenly inspired babes of memory,
Which by a like attracting sympathy
Apolloes prophets in their furies wrought,
And in their spirit inchaunting numbers taught,
To teach such as at poesie repine,
That it is only heavenly and divine.
And manifest her intellectuall parts,
Sucking the purest of the purest arts.
And unto these as by a sweet consent,
The sphery circles are aequivalent:
From the first mover and the starry heaven,
To glorious Phaebe, lowest of the seven.
Which jove in tunefull Diapazons framde,
Of heavenly musicke of the Muses namde:
To which the soule in her divinitie
By her Creator made of harmonie,
Whilest she in fraile and mortall flesh doth live,
To her nine sundry offices do give:
Which offices united are in three,
Which like the orders of the Angels bee,
Prefiguring thus by the number nine
The soule, like to the Angels is divine.
Idem.

— Provide ye Princes whilest ye live,
That of the Muses ye be friended be:
Which unto men eternitie doth give,
For they be daughters of dame memorie,
And jove, the father of Eternitie.
And do those men in golden chrones repose,
Whose merits they to glorifie do choose?
The sevenfold yron gates of grisly hell,
And horrid house of sad Proserpina,
They able are with power of mighty spell,
To breake, and thence the soules to bring away
Out of dread darknesse to eternall day.
And them immortall make which els would die
In fowle forgetfulnesse, and namelesse lie.
Ed. Spencer.

— Wise words taught in numbers for to runne
Recorded by the Muses live for aye,
Ne may with storming showers be washt away.
Ne bitter breathing windes with harmfull blast,
Nor age nor enuie shall them ever last.
Idem.

The Muses not long since intrapping love
In chaines of Roses linked all aray:
Gave bewtie charge to watch in their behove
With Graces three, least he should wend away.
Who fearing yet he would escape at last,
On hie Parnassus top they clapt him fast.
When Venus understood her soone was thrall,
She made post-haste to have god Vulcans aide:
Sold him her jemmes and Ceston therewithall,
To raunsome home her sonne that was betraid.
But all in vaine, the Muses made no store
Of gold, but bound him faster then before.
Th. Watson.

The Muses basely beg or bibbe, or both, and must, for why
They find as bad Bestoe, as is their portly beggery.
w 'warner.
Musicke.

— Thou sweet Musicke, dauncings only life,
The eares sole happinesse, the aires best speech:
Load-stone of fellowship, charming rod of strife,
The soft minds paradize, the sicke mans leech.
With their own tongue that trees & stones canst teach.
That when the aire doth daunce her finest measure,
Then art thou borne, the gods and mens sweet pleasure.
I. Davies.

As without breath no pipe doth move,
No Musicke kindly without love.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Esclepiad did cure with Trompets sound,
Such men as first had lost their hearing quite:
And many such as in their drinke lay drownd,
Damon reviued with tunes of grave delight.
And Theophrast when ought his mind opprest,
Vsde Musicke sound to bring himselfe to rest.
With sound of Harpe Thales did make recure
Of such as laie with pestilence forlorne:
With Organ pipes Xenocrates made pure
Their wittes, whose minds long lunacy had worne.
Th. V Vatson.

Some that report great Alexanders life,
They say that harmony so moved his minde:
That oft he rose from meate to warlike strife,
At sound of Trompe, or noyse of battell kinde.
And then that Musicks force of softer vaine,
Caused him returne from strokes to meate againe.
Idem.
Nature.

Nature in which divinitie doth shine,
Lively presenting unborne deitie:
Is that same spirit of reason most divine,
Which causeth every naturall worke to be.
All things she doth preserue, and can refine
Muddy pollutions from impietie.
Philosophy can teach no art nor ground,
Which Nature (elder borne) had not first found.
I. Markham.

— Nature in mans heart her lawes doth pen,
Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will,
Which do accuse, or els excuse all men,
For every thought or practise good or ill.
I. Davies.

Nature above all things requireth this,
That we our kind do labour to maintaine.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Nature which headlong into life doth throng us
With our feete forward to our grave doth bring us:
What is lesse ours, then this our borrowed breath ▪
We stumble into life, we go to death.
Th. Bastard.

Inexplicable nature by the God of nature wroght,
Makes things seeme miracles to some, to some not wonders thoght.
And every climates people both as they are men and live,
Do differ: if obserued, she not admired doth give
The workman rather thē the work extoll we, though in her
Not curiously, and all things to his providence refer.
W. Warner.

Nature hath powred inough in each mans lappe,
Could each man learne to use his private happe.
Th. Storer.

— Markes descried in mens nativitie,
Are natures faults, not their owne infamie.
V V. Shakespeare.

Nature is Learnings eyes, she natures thought,
Vse wanting either, is imperfect made,
They without use, no better then a shade.
I. Markham.

— Nature seemeth onely faire in chaunge.
D. Lodge.

— Where nature failes in strength she addes in wit.
W. W.

Nature gives bewtie, fortune wealth in vaine.
Ed. Fairfax.

— The desire of nature is not vaine,
She covets not impossibilities,
Fond thoughts may fall into some Idle braine,
But one assent of all is ever wise.
I. Davies.

Nature doth hate and shunne her contrarie.
Idem.

— Nature teacheth ever
Who loves preferment, needs must love the giver.
Th. Storer.
Nobilitie.

If to be noble and hie thy mind be moved,
Consider well the ground and thy beginning,
For he that hath each starre in heaven fixed,
And gives the moone her hornes and her eclipsing,
Alike hath made the noble in his working:
So that wretched no way mayst thou bee,
Except foule lust and vice do conquer thee.
E. of Surrey.

Let each man cracke of that which was his owne,
Our present vertues are theirs, and no whit ours:
Who therefore will of noble birth be knowne,
Ought shine in vertue like his auncestors.
Gentry consisteth not in lands and townes,
He is a churle though all the world were his,
Yea Arthurs heire if that he lived amis.
M. of M.

Behold of nobles new the diverse sourse,
Some vertue raiseth, some climbe by sluttish sorts:
The first though onely of themselues begunne,
Yet circle-wise into themselues do runne,
Within themselues therefore united so,
Both endlesse is, and stronger gainst their foe:
For when ends it that never hath begunne?
Or how may that hath not end, be undone?
The other as by wicked meanes they grew,
And raignd by flatterie, or violence; so soone rve.
First stumbling step from honours old is vice,
Which once stept downe, some linger, none arise
To former Type: but they catch vertues spray,
Which raiseth them that climbe by lawfull way.
Beware to rise by seruing princely lust,
Surely to stand on mean, is rising iust.
M. of M.

The Rose although in thornie shrubs she spread,
Is still the Rose, her bewties waxe not dead.
And noble mindes, although the court be bare,
Are by resemblance knowne how great they are.
R. Gree•e.

A noble minde disdaineth seruitude.
Th. Kyd.

True noblenesse never doth the thing it should not.
Idem.

The noble heart that harbours vertuous thought,
And is with childe with glories great intent:
Can never rest untill it forth have brought
Th'eternall broode of glory excellent.
Ed. Spencer.
Old Age.

— Next in order, sad old Age we found,
His beard all hoare, his eyes hollow and blinde,
With drouping cheere still poaring on the ground
As on the the place where valour him assigned
To rest, when as the sisters had untwind
His vitall thred, and ended with their knife,
The fleeting course of fast declining life.
M. Sackuill.

Crookt backt he was, tooth-shaken and bleare eide,
Went on three feete, and sometime crept on foure,
With old lame bones that ratled by his side,
His scalpe all pild, and he with eld forlore,
His withered fist still knocking at deaths dore,
Fumbling and driveling as he drawes his breath,
In breefe, the shape and messenger of death.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.

Old age and winter do accord full nie,
This chill, that cold, this crooked, that awrie.
Ed. Spencer.

— He that plies the laps and lips of Ladies all his time,
And fals to arms when age fails arms, then also looseth time:
As if a beare in Moone-shine, shuld attempt the Moone to clime.
W· Warner.

Our infancie is feeble, and our lustie youth unstaid,
Our manhood carking, and our age more loathed then obaid.
Idem.

Our heires wax sickish of our health, too long our here abode
Mean while the nerer to our graves, the farther we frō God
Gripple in works, testie in words, loathsom for most at lēgth,
And such at foure score, as at foure, for maners wit and strength.
Idem.

Eld is ordaind to counsell, youth to fight,
Age to foresee, yoong courage to inact.
D. Lodge.

Skill and experience good companions beene,
Age knoweth whatsoevet youth hath seene.
S. I. H.

Decrepit age and hoary siluer haires,
Still craveth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares.
G. Gascoigne·

It is a common point whereon the aged grosly runne,
Once to have dared said, & seene, more then was ever done.
W. Warner.

— The equall age doth equall life desire.
S. Daniel.

Small drops God knowes do quench age heatlesse fire,
When all the strength is onely in desire.
M. Drayton.
Opinion.

O male-content seducing ghuest,
Contriver of our greatest woes:
Which borne of winde and fed with showes,
Dost nurse thy selfe thy selfe in thine unrest,
judging ungotten things the best,
Or what thou in conceit designest.
S. Daniell.

Thou all things in the world dost deeme,
Not as they are, but as they seeme,
Idem.

Thou soule of pleasure, houres onely substance,
Great arbitrator, umpire of the earth,
Whom fleshly Epicures call vertues essence
Thou moving Orator, whose powerfull breath
Swaies all mens iudgements, Great Opinion,
I. Marston.

Opinion is as various as light chaunge,
Now speaking courtlike friendly, straight as strange.
Shee's any humours perfect parasite,
Displeasd with her, and pleasd with her delight.
Shee is the Eccho of inconstancie,
Soothing her no with nay, her I with yea.
E. Guilpin.

This syren or Opinion, wind-borne lame,
Seeking to ease us, brings us to unrest:
For it adiudgeth nothing it doth see,
By what it is, but what it seemes bee.
I. Markham.

We must in matters morall, quite reiect
Vulgar Opinion, ever led amisse:
And let autenticke reason be our guide,
The wife of truth, and wisedomes governesse.
G. Chapman.
Opportunitie.

Opportunitie thy guilt is great,
Tis thou that executest the traitors treason,
Thou setst the wolfe where he the lambe may get,
Who ever plots the sinne, thou points the season.
Tis thou that spurnest at right, at lawiers reason:
And in thy shady Cell where none may spie him,
Sits sinne, to feare each soule that wanders by him.
W. Shakespeare.

Faire Opportunitie can winne the coyest she that is,
Then he that rules her gamesome vaine, & tēpers toies with art,
Brings love that swimmeth in her eyes, to dive into her hart.
W. Warner.

When love hath knit two parts in perfect unitie,
They seldome faile to finde th'opportunitie.
S. I. Harrington.
Occasion.

Occasion's wingd, and ever flyeth fast,
Comming she smiles, and frownes once being past.
M. Drayton.

Now by the forehead let us take Occasion,
Least after all our travell and expence,
He hide away his haire, and turne his balld,
And we unprovident bethought and calld.
S. I. H.

If lust or age doth minde assaile,
Subdue Occasion, so thou shalt prevaile.
Idem.

True iudgement sleight regards Opinion.
I. Marston.

Opinion how dost thou molest
Th'affected mind of restless man?
Who following thee never can,
Nor ever shall attaine to rest,
Forgetting what thou saist is best,
Yet loe, that best he findes farre wide,
Of what thou promisest before,
For in the same he look't for more,
Which proves but small when once is tried.
S. Daniell.

He onely treads the sure and perfect path
To greatnesse, who love and opinion hath.
Idem.

Let us esteeme Opinion as she is
Fooles bable, Innovations mistris.
The Proteus Robin good fellow of change,
Smithfield of iaded fancies, and th'exchange
Of fleeting censures, nurse of heresie,
Begot by nature on inconstancie,
Its but the kisse of griefe, the peoples noise,
The tongue of humors and fantastick voice,
Of haire braind apprehension it respects
With all dve titles, and that dve neglects
Euen in one instant.
Ed. Guilpin.
Patience.

Patience doth beare a never pierced sheeld,
Whose brightnesse hath enforc'r more monsters yeeld,
Then that of ugly Gorgons head was made.
I. Syluister.

Patience is angers subiect, and controlled
With every fury, which men would redresse,
But cannot do it, for she is gentle milde,
Orecome and kept downe like a strengthlesse childe.
Ch. Middleton.

Patience a praise, forbearance is a treasure,
Sufferance an angell, a monster rage.
Ed. Fairfax.

Let gentle Patience profit thee, for Patience is a thing,
Whereby a begger gaineth of a discontented King.
V V. Warner.

Man in himselfe a litle world doth beare,
His soule the Monarch ever ruling there,
Where ever then his body do remaine,
He is a King that in himselfe doth raigne,
And never feareth fortunes hotest alarmes,
That beares against her Patience for her armes.
M. Drayton.

The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endured the chief.
Ed. Sp.

What fortune hurts, let Patience onely heale,
No wisedome with extremities to deale.
M. Dr.

By patient sufferance could we mildly beare
With fortune, yet we equally might share,
And overcomming that which all do feare.
By present cure, prevent ensuing care.
Idem.

Who in distresse from resolution flies,
Is rightly said to yeeld to miseries.
That life is only miserable and vile,
From which faire Patience doth it selfe it selfe exile.
Idem.

Though eyes want sight of that they would see faine,
The thought yet sees, and heart with patience likes it:
Long absence greeves thee when they meet againe,
Absence delights, and doth more pleasant make it
To serue and sve long time for little gaine.
(So that all hope do not quite forsake it)
One may endure, for when the paine is past
Reward though long it staie, yet comes at last.
S. I. H.

Let Brontes and blacke Steropes
Sweat at the Forge their hammers beating:
An houre will come, they must affect their ease,
Though but while mettall's heating.
And after all their Aetnean ire,
"Gold that is perfect will out-live the fire.
" For Fury wasteth,
"As Patiend lasteth.
" No armor to the Mind: "He is shoot-fire
From Iniury,
That is not hurt; not hee, that is not hit:
So Fooles we see,
Oft scape their Imputation, more through luck, then wit.
B. johnson.
Passion.

Passion devours, but time digests our woe.
Passion beares hie, when puffing witts do blowe:
But is indeed a to•, if not a toy,
True cause of evils, and cause of caused th showe.
S. Phil. Sid

They only aptest are for to reveale
Their private passions who the same do feele.
D. Lodge.

None doth live not passionate of love, ire, mirth or griefe.
W. Warner.

A man may not of passions iudge aright,
Except his mind be from all passions free:
Nor can a judge his office well acquite,
If he possest of either partie bee.
I. Davies.
Parents.

It is as common as unkind a fault
In youth (too subiect to this worlds assault)
To imitate, admit, and daily chuse
Those errors which their lawlesse parents use.
D. Lodge.

If damned dice the father doth affect,
The selfe-like folly doth his heire infect.
If lust, to lust the sonne is to proclive,
If fraud, by fraud his wanton race will thrive.
If surfit, surfit is esteemed no sin,
For youth persevers as he doth begin.
Idem.

— From damned deeds abstaine,
From lawlesse riots and from pleasures vaine.
If not regarding of thy owne degree,
Yet in behalfe of thy posteritie,
For we are docible to imitate
Depraved pleasures, though degenerate.
Be carefull therefore least thy sonne admit
By eare or eye things filthy or unfit.
Idem.

The Babe is blest that godly parent• bred,
And sharpe-sweet tutors traine in loving dred:
But chiefly that (in tender cradle bed)
With sincere milke of pietie is fed.
I. Syl.

— Charitable, godly, wise and continent were fit
Should parents be; so prosper they, theirs, and whom they beget.
W. Warner.

— Oft we see men so fond and blinde
To carry to their sonnes too much affection:
That when they seeme to love they are unkinde,
For they do hate a childe that spare correction.
S. I. H.

— Parents thoughts in love, oft steppe awry.
G. Peele.

Our parents age worse then our graund-syres bee,
We worse, beget our children worse then wee.
Th. Storer.
Peace.

— Mother of the living, second nature
Of th'elements, fire, water, earth and aire:
The grace whereby men clime the heavenly chaire,
Whence voyd, this world harbors no happie creature.
Piller of lawes, religions pedestall,
Hope of the glory, glory of the immortall.
Honor of cities, pearle of kingdomes all,
The nurse of vertues, Muses chiefe supportall.
Patron of arts, of good the speciall spring.
I. Syluester.

Heavens sacred nymph, faire goddesse that renuest
The golden age, and brightly now revewest,
Our cloudy skie, making our fields to smile,
Hope of the vertuous, horror of the vile.
Virgin unseene, in France this many a yeare,
O blessed peace, we bid thee welcome heere.
Idem.

O holy peace by thee are only found,
The passing ioyes that every where abound.
G. Gascoigne. Transl.

— Most sacred peace
Doth nourish vertue, and fast friendship breeds,
Weak she makes strong, & strong things does increase:
Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds.
Brave be her warres, and honorable deeds,
By which she tryumphs over ire and pride,
And wins an Olive garland for their meeds.
Ed. Spencer.

Peace doth depend on reason, warre on force,
The one is humane, honest and upright:
The other brutish, fostered by despight.
The one extreame, concluded with remorse,
The other all iniustice doth divorce.
D. Lodge.

Peace brings in pleasure, pleasure breeds excesse,
Excesse procureth want, want worse distresse.
Distresse contempt, contempt is not repaired,
Till livelesse death determine hope dispaired.
Idem.

Warres greaest woes, and miseries increase,
Flowes frō the surfets which we take in peace.
B. john.
Pleasure.

Physche in stedfast love and happie state
With Cupid lives, and hath him borne a childe,
Pleasure that doth both Gods and men aggrate.
Ed. Spencer.

Most easie is the way and passage plaine,
To Pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
And day and night her doores to all stand open wide.
Idem.

Her face was wan, a leane and withered skin,
Her stature scant three horsloaves did exceed:
Her haire was gray of hue, and very thin,
Her teeth were gone, her gummes serued in their steed.
No space there was betweene her nose and chin.
Her noysome breath contagion would breed.
In fine, of her it might have well bene said,
In Nestors youth she was a prettie maid.
S. I. Harr.

O poysoned hooke that lurkes in sugred bait
O Pleasures vaine, that in this world are found:
Which like a subtill theefe do lie in wait
To swallow man in sinke of sin profound.
Idem.

— Revels, daunces, maskes and merry howers,
Forerun faire love, strowing her way with flowers.
W. Sha.

O Pleasure thou the very lure of sin,
The roote of woe, our youths deceitfull guide:
A shop where all infected persons bin,
The bait of lust, the instrument of pride.
Inchaunting Circes smoothing covert guile,
Alluring Syren, flattering Crocodile.
M. Drayton.

Pleasures be poore, and our delights be dead,
When as a man doth not enjoy the head.
Idem.

Never have uniust pleasures bene compleat
In ioyes intire; but still feare kept the dore:
And held backe something from that hell of sweet,
To inter sowre unsure delights the more.
For never did all circumstances meet
With those desires which were conceived before.
Something must still be left to cheare our sin,
And give a touch of what should not have bin.
S. Daniell.

Pleasure is felt, opinion but conceived.
Idem.

In feare her arts are learned now a daies,
To counterfait their haire and paint their skin:
But reasons ring their craft and guile bewraies,
No wise men of their paintings passe a pin.
S. I. H.

Too much desire to please, pleasure divorces,
Attempts, and not intreat, get Ladies larges.
G. Chapman.

Our fond preferments are but childrens toyes,
And as a shadow all our pleasures passe:
As yeares increase, so waining are our ioyes,
And beautie crazed like a broken glasse,
A prettie tale of that which never was.
M. Drayton.

— Pleasures never dine but on excesse,
Whose diet made to draw on all delight:
And overcome in that sweet drunkennesse,
His appetite maintained by his sight,
Strengtheneth desire, but ever weakeneth might.
Vntill this ulcer ripening to an head,
Vomits the poyson which it nourished.
Idem.

Short houres worke long effects minutes have change,
While pleasure ioyeth, paine more ripe doth growe.
Idem.

The secret sweet is sweetest, sweet to fall.
Th. Achilley.

— To them that know not pleasures price,
Alls one, a prison, or a paradice.
M. Drayton.
Poesie.

All art is learnd by art, this art alone
It is a heavenly gift: no flesh nor bone
Can preise the hony we from Pind distill,
Except with holy fier his brest we fill.
From that spring flowes, that men of speciall choose
Consumed in learning and perfit in prose:
For to make verse in vaine do is travell take,
When as a prentise fairer words will make.
K. of S.

Whilome in ages past none might professe
But princes and hie priests that sacred skill:
The sacred lawes wherein they wont expresse,
And with deepe oracles their verses fill,
Then was he held in soveraigne dignitie,
And made the noursling of nobilitie.
But now nor Prince nor Priest doth her maintaine,
But suffer her prophaned for to bee,
Of the base vulgar that with hands uncleane
Dares to pollute her hidden misterie.
And treadeth underfoote her holy things,
Which was the care of Keysars and of Kings.
Ed. Spencer.

Those numbers wherwith heaven & earth are moved,
Shew, weaknes speaks in prose, but power in verse.
S. Daniell.

— Man from man must holy parted bee,
If with his age his verse do well agree.
Amongst our hands, he must his wits resing,
A holy traunce to highest heaven him bring.
For even as humane fury makes the man
Lesse then the man: so heavenly fury can
Make man passe man, and wander in holy mist
Vpon the fiery heaven to walke at list.
Within that place the heavenly Poets sought
Their learning, sin to us here downe it brought.
With verse that ought to Atropos no dve,
Dame Natures trunchmen, heavens interpret true,
K. of Scots.

The vaunted verse a vacant head demaunds,
Ne wont with crabbed care the Muses dwell,
Vnwisely weaves that takes two webbes in hand.
Ed. Spencer.

O peerlesse Poesie, where is then thy place?
If not in princes pallace thou doest sit,
And yet is princes pallace the most fit.
Or breach of baser birth doth thee embrace,
Then make thee wings of thy aspiring wit,
And whence thou camest fly backe to heaven apace.
Idem.

All art is learned by art, but poesie
It is a gift divine, and cannot die.
Idem.

Like as into the waxe the seales imprent,
Is like a seale: right so the Poet gent,
Doth grave so vive in us his passions strange,
As makes the reader halfe in author change,
For Verses force is like that softly slides,
Through secret poris, and in our sences bides,
As make them have both good and ill imprented,
Which by the learned worke is represented.
K. of Scots.

— Onely he of Lawrell is condigne,
Who wisely can with profit pleasure minge,
The fairest walking on the sea coast beene,
And surest swimming where the braes are greene,
So wise is he who in his verse can have
Skill mixt with pleasure sports, with doctrine grave.
Idem.

Who ever casts to compasse waightie prise,
And thinks to throw out thundering words of threat:
Let power in lavish cups and thriftie bits of meat,
For Bacchus fruite is friend to Phoebus wise,
And when with wine the braine begins to sweat,
The numbers flowe, as freely spring doth rise.
Ed. Spencer.

Ridled poesies and those significantly flowe,
Differ in eares, as do in mouths the apricocke and sloe.
W. Warner.

What reason moved the golden Augustine
To name our Poetrie vaine errors wine?
Or Hierome deeply sighted in their evills,
To tearme it nothing but the foode of devils.
Nought but the misimployment of our gifts,
Ordaind for Art, but spent in shamlesse slufts.
D. Lodge.

Looke as the sun-beame in a burning glasse,
Doth kindle fier where ever it doth passe,
But freely spread upon th'engendring earth,
Egges on the spring, and bils the cause of dearth,
So Poesie restraind in errors bounds,
With poisoned words and sinfull sweetnesse wounds,
But cloathing vertue and adorning it,
Wit shines in vertue, vertue shines in it.
Idem.
Poets.

The Greekes do paint the Poets office whole,
In Pegasus their fained horse, with wings,
Whom shaped so, Medusaes bloud did foyle,
Who with his feete strake out the Muses springs
Fro flintie rocks to Helicon that clings,
And then flew up into the starry skie,
And thete abides among the Gods on hie:
For who that will a perfect Poet bee,
He must be bred out of Medusaes blood,
He must be chaste and vertuous as was shee,
Who to her power, the Ocean God withstood.
To th'end also his doombe be iust and good,
He must as she, looke rightly with one eie,
Truth to regard, ne write one thing awrie.
In courage eke, he must be like a horse,
He may not feare to register the right.
What though some frowne? thereof he may not force
No bit, ne raine his tender iawes may twight,
He must be armed with strength of wit and sprite,
To dash the rocks, darke causes and obscure,
Till he attaine the springs of truth most pure.
His hoves also must pliant be and strong,
To rive the rocks of lust and errors blind.
In brainelesse heads that alwaies wander wrong,
These must be bruised with reasons plaine and kind,
Till springs of grace do gush out of thy mind:
For till affections fond be from thee driven,
In vaine is truth told, or good counsell given.
Like Pegasus, a Poet must have wings,
To flie to heaven, or where him liketh best,
He must have knowledge of eternall things,
Almightie jove must harbour in his brest,
With worldly cares he may not be opprest.
The wings of wit and skill must heave him hier,
With great delight to ratifie desier.
He must also be lustie, free, and swift,
To travell farre to view the trades of men.
Great knowledge oft is gotten by the shift,
Things that import he must be quicke to pen,
Reproving vices sharply now and then.
He must be swift when touched tyrants chafe,
To gallope thence, to keepe his carkas safe.
M. of M.

A Poet must be pleasant, not too plaine,
Faults to controll, ne yet to flatter vice,
But sound and sweete, in all things ware and wise.
Idem.

— Poets onely pride,
Is vertue to aduance, and vice deride.
Ed. Spencer.

— Poets right are like the pipe alway,
Who full doth sound, and emptie, staies to play:
Euen so their fury lasting, lasts their tone,
Their fury ceast, their muse doth stay anone.
K. of Scots.

When heaven would strive to doo the best she can,
And put an Angels spirit into a man,
Then all her powers she in that worke doth spend,
When she a Poet to the world doth send.
The difference onely twixt the Gods and us,
Allowd by them, is but distinguisht thus.
They give men breath, men by their powers are born,
That life they give, the Poet doth adorne:
And from the world when they dissolue mans breath,
They in the world do give man life in death.
M. Drayton.

— Who so will with vertues deeds assay
To mount to heaven on Pegasus must ride,
And with sweete Poets verse be glorifide,
For not to have bene dipt in Laethe Lake,
Could save the sonne of Thetis for to die,
But that blind bard did him immortall make,
With Verses dipt, in deaw of Castelie,
Which made the Easterne Emperour to crie.
O fortunate yoong man whose vertue found
So brave a trumpe thy vertues to resound.
Ed. Spencer.

Phisitions bills not patients but Apothecaries knowes,
Some moderne Poets be hardly inward so,
Not intellectually to write, is learnedly they trowe,
Whereby they hit capacities, as blind men hit the crowe.
W. Warner.

As now by melancholy walks, and thredbare coats we gesse,
At clients and at Poets none worke more, and profit lesse.
None make to more unmade of more, the good of other men
For those enrich the gownists, these eternize with their pen.
Yet soothly nods to Poets now, are largesse and but lost,
For Pallas hermits live secure, obscure in roofes embost.
Idem.

The world and they so ill according bee,
That wealth and Poets hardly can agree:
Fewe live in court, that of their good do care,
The muses friends are every where so rare.
M. Draiton.

He gives a Poet that his verses heares.
Idem.

But oh Mecenas is yclad in clay,
And great Augustus long ago is dead,
And all the worthies liggen wrapt in lead,
That matter made for Poets on to play
•or ever, who in dorring do, were dead,
The loftie verse of them was loved aye:
But after vertue, gan for age to stoupe,
And mightie manhood brought to bed of ease,
•he vaunting Poets found nought worth a pease,
•o put in preaze among the learned troope,
•ho gan the streames of flowing wits to cease,
And sun-bright honour pend in shamefull coope.
Ed. Spencer.

— These frugall patrons who begin
To scantle learning with a seruile pay,
Make Poets thinke their negligence no sin,
The cold conceit of recompence doth flay,
Their fiery furie when they should begin,
The Priest unpaid, can neither sing nor say,
Nor Poets sweetly write, except they meete
With some rewards for sermoning so sweete.
D. Lodge.

— Platoes Common-weale did packe
None of those Poets, who by Verse did make
The good men evill, and the wicked worse,
Whose pleasant words betraid the publike corse,
Nor those who in their songs good termes, alwaies
joynd with faire theames: whilest thundring on the praise
Of God, iust thunderer; whiles this holy speach,
Like Hermes did the way to strayers teach.
K. of Scots.
Plentie.

— Such is th'ffect of two much store,
It makes them loathe that which they loved before.
Ch. Middleton.

The stately Eagle on his pitch doth stand
And from the maine the fearefull foule doth svit,
Yet scornes to touch them lying on the land,
When he hath felt the sweete of his delight,
But leaves the same a pray to every Kite,
With much we surfet, Plentie makes us poore,
The wretched Indian scornes the golden Oare.
M. Drayton.
Pollicie.

O pollicie scarce knowne in times that's past,
Or being knowne, yet least of most esteemd,
Thy providence most worthily shall last,
And in these latter dayes be better deemd.
L. Markham.

— Warre, honour doth deserue,
Yet counsell in all Kingdomes pollicied,
Is farre more worthy and more dignified:
For armes but in extreames do never serue,
To reconcile and punish such as swerue.
D. Lodge.

He that will gaine what pollicie doth heed,
By Mercurie must deale, or never speed.
M. Drayton.

Grounded aduice in daunger seldome trips
The deadliest poyson still can safely drinke:
Foresight, stands fast where giddie rashnes slides,
Wisedome seemes blind, when eyed as a Lin•
Prevention speaketh ill, but what he thinkes,
The deadliest hate which smiles securely stands.
Idem.

— Pollicie religious habit weares.
Idem.

No Pollicie to silence now adaies.
Th. Storer.

Our troubles kept abroad, although to cost,
A•e well bought out, for least by them is lost.
D. Lodge.

Tis better farre thy enemy to aband
Quite from thy bowers to a stranger soyle,
Then he at home thee and thy country foyle.
M. of M.

The head that deemes to overtop the skie,
Shall perish in his humane pollicie.
R. Greene.

How oft have watching pollicie devizde
A cunning clause which hath himselfe surprizde?
How often hath leaud fraud bene set a flore
Of purpose that his goods might cut his throte?
Who bvilds on strength by pollicie is stript,
Who hurts his wit by wit, is soonest tript.
D. Lodge.

Endevours polliticke take small effect,
That wants assistance from the heavenly word:
Beside fome helpe must wealth and state afford.
For iudgement uttered by the mouth of want,
Is either partiall or admired scant.
Th. Storer.

A Clergie man his calling much impaires,
To meddle with the polliticke affaires.
Idem.

Though Marius could begin and make the fray,
Yet Scaurus pollicie deserues the baye.
D. Lodge.

Let Catulus with Pompey be comparde,
Or wittie Cicero with Cateline:
And to prevent with pollicie divine,
That which the other over-rashly darde,
Deserues such fame as may not be imparde.
Idem.

Say military vertues do require
A valiant heart, great strength and constancie:
The selfe like gifts in civil pollicie,
Are requisite for such as do aspire
To gaine renowne by counsell for their hire.
Idem.

A little harme done to a great good end,
For lawfull pollicie remaines inacted,
The poysonous simple sometime is compacted
In a pure compound; being so applied
His venome in effect is purified.
W. Sha.
Povertie.

O povertie, chiefe of the heavenly broode.
Ed. Fairfax.

— Such is the world, this cros-blis world of ours,
That vertue hardly hides her self her self in poore & desart bowers,
And such be best as seeme not best, content exceeds a crowne
W. Warner.

— Powerfull need (arts auncient dame, and keeper)
The early watch clocke of the slothfull sleeper.
I. Syluester.

— Lacke is thrall and slave to every thing.
Th. Churchyard.

Need is mistresse of all exercise.
Th. Bastard.

A schollers want exceeds a clownes content.
Idem.

No danger but in hie estate, none erre in meane degree.
W. Warner.

— Where imperious need doth tyrannize,
The holy heate through worldly cares doth pawse
Its soild with earthly thoughts and downward drawes.
Hence come those dull conceits among the wise,
Which coy eard readers censure to proceed
From ignorance, whereas they grow by need.
D. Lodge.

The citizens like ponned pikes, the lesser feeds the great,
The rich for meat seek stomachs, and the pore for stomach meat.
V V. V Varner.

Be as thou art, not as thou wouldst, it will be as it is,
Learne then to lack, and learn to live, for crosses never misse.
Idem.
Prayer.

Prayers heart and sides, and feet, are full of wings
(Like to th'Arcadian which joves arrand brings)
Her body burning, from her lips doth come
The smoake of Incense, and of sweet Amome.
I. Syluester.

Heavens are propitious unto fearfull prayers.
R. Greene.

Fasting (though faint) her face with ioy she cheares,
In weaknes strong, and young in aged yeares.
Quicke health preseruer, curbing Cupids fits,
Watchfull, purge humors, and refining wits.
I. Syl.
Praise.

This false painted deitie called Laude,
Which makes us thirst for vaine eternitie:
Twixt our desires and hope, a cunning baud
Vshers the soule unto extremitie:
And helpt by slye insinuating fraud,
Covers her deeds in scrowles of pietie.
I. Markham.

The hope of praise makes men no travell shunne,
To say an other day this have we donne.
S. I. H.

Who rightly climes the top of endlesse praise,
Regards not what the wise discourser saies.
Th. Storer.

— From praise takes enuie cause.
W. W.

The chiefest praise is to imbrace the man
In wealth and woe, with whom our love began.
G. Turb.

The greatest praise, in greatest perils wonne.
Ed. Fairfax.

The looser wantons sild are praisde of many,
Vice oft findes friends but vertue sildome any.
M. Dray.

In Athence where Themistocles remaind,
Though much he conquered by his regiments,
Yet Solon was more praised for his intents.
D. Lodge.

Praise not the bewty of thy wife, though she of fame be spred,
For Gyges moved so, did graft on Caudales his hed.
W. Warner.
Providence.

O Providence the conduct to our life,
The ground of vertue, hostile foe to sin:
That re••est Towers, and appeasest strife:
Thou gatherest all dispearsed exiles in.
Thou that inuentest lawes gainst man and wife.
Thou mistresse unto auncient discipline.
Thou that bearest heaven and nature round about thee:
That makest all things, nothing being without thee.
I. Markham.
Pride.

Of grisly Pluto she the daughter was,
And sad Proserpina the queene of hell:
Yet doth she thinke her peerlesse worth to passe,
That parentage with pride so doth she swell,
And thundering jove that high in heaven doth dwell:
And weeld the world, she claimed for her sire.
Or if that any els doth jove excell,
For to the highest she doth still aspire,
Or if ought higher were, then that doth it desire.
— And proud Lucifera men did her call.
Ed. Spencer.

O pride, the shelfe close shrowded in the port
Of this lifes Ocean, drowning all resort.
D. Lodge.

Pride makes her rownds, for she hath never end,
And sonnets, for she never leaves her noyse:
She makes her dumps if any thing offend,
And to her Idoll-selfe with warbling voyce
Sings Hymnes and Anthems of especiall choyce.
And yet prides quiver's put to silence cleane,
Wanting a base, a tenor, and a meane.
Th. Storer.

The winged giant loftie staring pride,
That in the cloudes her braving brest doth hide.
I. Syl.

Pride is the roote of ill in every state,
The sourse of sin, the very fiend his fee:
The head of hell, the bough, the braunch, the tree.
From which do spring and sprout such fleshly seeds,
As nothing els but moane and mischiefe breeds.
G. Gascoigne.

Pride drawes on vengeance, vengeance hath no mean.
— Nemesis hath every howre reserued
A plague for pride that hath from iustice swerued.
D. Lodge.

— Such is the nature still of hautie pride,
Can nothing lesse then others praise abide.
M. of M.

— When once pride but pointeth toward his fall.
He beares a sword to wound himselfe withall.
M. Drayton.

— Loftie pride that dwells
In towred courts, is oft in shepheards cells.
Ch. Marlowe.

A proud man may his owne musition bee,
His heads devise makes pavins to his hart:
This heart with lippes and pleasures daunceth free,
All but the measures framing every part
Like organis worthy of so sweet an art.
His thoughts plaies marches to his vaulting minde,
And memorie his Recorder stands behinde.
Th. Storer.

Gay without good, is good hearts greatest loathing.
Ed. Spencer.
Princes.

The very place wherein a Prince appeares
Discernes his presence, makes his chamber blest:
Like Planets are they knowne within their spheares,
Or as Haltion with her luring brest:
Demonstrates winde from winde, and East from West.
This is a certaine nature of estate,
It cannot masked be, nor chaunge his gate.
Th. Storer.

A Princes safetie lies in loving people,
His fort is justice (free from stratageme)
Without the which strong citadels are feeble,
The subiects love is wonne by loving them.
Of loving them no oppression is the tryall,
And no oppression makes them ever loyall.
I. Syl.

To be a Prince, is more then be a man.
S. Daniell.

— Princes are the glasse, the schoole, the booke
where subiects eies do live, do read, do looke.
w. warner.

Howbeit subiects falsly iudge their Princes blessed are,
when both of peace & perils they contain the common care.
And yet for this they grudgingly from pounds a penny spare.
Idem.

Princes in subiects wrōgs must deem themselues abusd
S. Phil. Sidney.

Private men sound not the hearts of Princes,
Whose actions oft beare contrary pretences.
S. Daniell.

Princes like Lyons never will be tamde,
A private man may yeeld and care not howe,
But greater hearts will breake before they bowe.
Idem.

The Princes armes are stretcht from shore to shore.
M. Drayton.

— As the pawnce doth circle with the Sunne,
So to the vice, or vertue of the Prince, are people wonne.
W. Warner.

Good Princes sorrow more in punishing,
Then evil subiects in committing sin.
Ch. Mid.

Euen as defaults will more conspicuous be
How much th'offender greater is esteemd:
So vertue in a princely body seene,
Lamp-like and far more excellently deemd,
That in such vinitie its seldome seene.
In mutuall approach of highest blisse,
Whether more graced each by other is.
Th. Storer.

O happie Princes whose foresight and care
Can winne the love of writers in such sort
As Caesars did, so as you need not dread
The lake of Laethe after ye be dead.
S. I.H.

— Princes never do themselues more wrong
Then when they hinder iustice or prolong.
Idem.

In whose high brest may justice bvild her bower
When Princes hearts wide open lye to wrong?
G. Gascoigne.

We imitate the greater powers,
The princes manners, fashion ours:
The example of their light regarding,
Vulgar loosenes much incenses,
Vice uncontrolled, growes wide inlarging,
Kings small faults be great offences.
S. Daniell.

Oft for the pleasure of a prince go many things awry.
W. Warner.

Princes like sinnes be evermore in sight,
Ill see the clouds which do eclips their light.
Yet they which light all downe from their skies,
See not the cloudes offending others eies.
And deeme their noonetide is desirde of all,
When all exspect cleare changes by their fall.
M. Dray.

Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honor for an inward toyle:
And for unfelt imagination
They often feele a world of restlesse cares.
So that betwixt their titles and low names
Their's nothing differs but the outward fame.
W. Sha.

Seld shall you see the rvine of a prince,
But that the people eke like brunt do beare:
And old records of auncient times long since
From age to age, yea almost every where,
With proofe hath glutted every yeare.
Thus by the follies of the princes hart,
The bounden subiect still receiveth smart.
G. Gascoigne.
Quietnesse.

The wind is great upon the highest hills,
The quiet life is in the dale below:
Who tread on y•e shall slide against their wills,
They want not cares that curious arts would know.
Who lives at ease and can content him so
Is perfit wise, and sets us all to schoole:
Who hates this lore, may well be called a foole.
M. of M.

— Quietnes the onely nurse or ease.
M. Dray.

Wellwot I sooth they say that say, more quiet nights and daies.
The shepheard sleeps & wakes, then he whose cattell he doth graze ▪
W. Warner.
Reason.

— Logicke, reason in a daunce
(Reson the Cynosure and bright load-starre
In this worlds sea) t'avoyd the rocke of chaunce,
For vith close following and continuance,
O•e reason doth another so ensue,
A in conclusion still the daunce i• true.
I. Davies.

— Reason should have abilitie
To h•ld these worldly things in such proportion,
As lethem come or go with even facilitie.
S. Phil. Sidney.

— •uery thing that is begun with reason
Will c••e by ready meanes unto his end,
But thi•gs miscounselled, must needs miswend.
Ed. Spencer.

Reason by prudence in her function,
Had wont to tutor all out action,
Ayding with precepts of Philosophie
Our feebled natures imbecillitie,
But now affection with concupiscence,
Have got ore reason chiefe preheminence.
I. Marston.

What warre so cruell, or what siege so sore
As that which strong affections do applie
Against the fort of reason evermore,
To bring the soule into captivitie?
Their force is fairer through infirmitie
Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage,
And exercise most bitter tirannie,
Vpon the parts brought into their bondage;
No wretchednesse is like to sinfull villanie.
Ed. Spencer.

But in a body which doth freely yeeld
His parts to reasons rule obedient,
And letteth not that ought the scepter weeld,
All happie peace and goodly government.
Is setled there in sure establishment.
Idem.

He that is of reasons skill bereft,
And wants the stuffe of wisedome him to stay,
Is like a subiect midst of tempest left,
Withouten helme or pilot her to sway,
Full sad and dreadfull is that ships event:
So is the man that wante intendment,
Idem.

Reason doth teach us that the care is vaine,
For ill once past which cannot turne againe.
Th. watson.

If reason bandie with opinion,
Opinion winnes in the conclusion:
For if a man be once opinionate,
Millions of reasons will extenuate
His forced malice: conference
Cannot asswage opinions insolence.
But let opinion once lay batterie
To reasons fort, she will turne heresie
Or superstition, wily politist,
But she will win those rampi•es which resist.
Ed. Gilpin.

— Nought can reason availe in heavenly matters.
S. Phil ▪ Sid.

She whom sauns reason men have reason hight,
Since first in •ire the Lord the aire inclosde:
In aire the sea, in sea the earth disposde
Hath with mild faith maintaind continuall fight.
I. Syluester.

— The eye of reason is with raging ybent.
Ed. Sp.
Religion.

Sacred Religion, mother of forme and feare.
S. Daniell.

O that this power from everlasting given,
The great alliance made twixt God and us,
The intelligence that earth doth hold with heaven.
Sacred Religion, O that thou must thus
Be made to smooth our uniust unevin,
Brought from above earths quarrell to discusse.
Must men beguile our soules to win our wills,
And make our zeale the furtherer of ills?
Idem.

No one quailes religion more then foundring presbitie,
Each s•t impugning order, saith and doth his infancie.
W. Warner.

What may not mischiefe of mad man abuse?
Religions cloake some one to vice doth chuse.
And maketh God protector of his crime,
O monstrous world, well ought we wish thy fine.
M. of M.

— English men, nay Christian men, not only seeme prophane,
But man to man, as beast to beast hold civil duties vaine.
Yea pulpits some like pedlers packs yeeld forth as men affect:
And what a Synode should conclude, a souter doth correct.
The rude thus bos•ing literature, one sin begets another
And grosly thogh a schisme, yet hath ech Schismatick his brother
Mean while the learned wāt their meed, & none with profit hears,
The tedious dolt whose artlesse tong doth preach to verie eares.
V V. Warner.

— Since pure religion doth install
Learned professors, Prelates of deserts,
Let them aspire and reac instructed harts
Against the base bestowers of church livings,
That use their graunts in tellings, not in givings.
Th. Storer.
Repentance.

Repentance makes two rivers of her eies,
Her humble face dares scant behold the skies:
Her broken breast is beaten blew and blacke,
Her tender fleshis rent wih rugged sacke,
With sorrowes snowes her hoary waxen head,
With ashes pale, and dust is overspread.
I. Syluister.

Repentance, hope, and soft humilitie,
Do flanke the wings of faiths triumphant carre,
Idem.

Repentance,
A salue, a comfort, and a cordiall,
He that hath her, the keies of heaven hath,
This is the guide, this is the port, the path.
M. Drayton.

O happie they that keepe within their measure,
To turne their course in time, and sound retreit,
Before that wit which late Repentance tought,
Were better never had then so deare bought.
S. I. H.

Sinnes have their salues, repentance can do much.
R. Greene.

— To be penitent for faults, with it a paron beares.
W. W.

Then hope we health when sinne is left repentantly in hart,
Adde then new life, and we to God, God doth to us conuart.
Idem.

Yet stay thy feete in murders ugly gate,
Ill comes to soone, repentance oft too late.
M. Dr,

Their lives no man so setled in content,
That hath not daily whereof to repent.
D. Lodge.

We see what's good, and thereto we consent,
But yet we chuse the worse and soone repent.
S. Daniell.
Rest.

— What so strong,
But wanting rest, will also want of might?
The sunne that measures heaven all day long,
At night doth bath his steeds, th'Ocean waves among.
Ed. Spencer.

Vntroubled night they say, gives counsell best.
Idem.

Who long hath rested cannot runne apace,
The fettered horse is hindmost in the chase.
Revenge.

— Next within the entrie of the gate,
Sate fell revenge, gnashing her teeth with ire,
Devising meanes how she may vengeance take,
Never in rest till she have her desire.
But frets within so farre forth with the fier
Of wreaking flames, that now determines shee,
To die by death, or vengd by death to bee.
M. Sackuill.

O fearefull frowning Nemesis,
Daughter of iustice most severe,
That art the worlds great arbitresse,
And Queene of causes raigning heere.
S. Daniell.

Fierce Nemesis mother of fate and change,
Sword bearer of th'eternall providence.
Idem.

— Nemesis whose hastie revenging
Hands are ever at hand: whose mind is mutable alwaies,
At miseries laughing, at mens felicitie grudging.
A. Fraunce.

— Nemesis hie mistris of revenge,
That with the scourge keepes all the world in awe.
Th. Dekkar.

The minde by wrong is made a male-content,
And cloudes her shine in pleaslesse melancholy,
Her holy humours are in passion spent,
Till by revenge shee's set at libertie.
For tis revenge that satisfaction brings
To iniured mindes, and to oppressed things.
I. Markham.

The soule is like a boystrous working sea,
Swelling in billowes for disdaine of wrongs,
And tumbling up and downe from bay to bay,
Proves great with child of indignations.
Yet with revenge is brought to calme allay,
Disburdend of the paine thereto belongs.
Her bowers are turnd to bright-fac't sun-shine braves,
And faire content plaies gently on her waves.
Idem.

Revenge dies not, rigour begets new wrath,
And bloud hath never glory, mercie hath.
S. D.

Revenge is mine, saith he that sits on hie.
Th. Achelly.

O dire revenge when thou in time art rakte,
From out the ashes that preserue thee long,
And lightly from thy cinders art awakte,
Fuell to freedome, and reviued with wrong:
How soone from sparks the greatest flames art sprung?
Which doth by nature to his top aspire,
Whose massy greatnes once kept downe his fier.
M. Drayton.

Revenge in tears doth ever wash his hands,
Idem.

Who so doth threat meanes of revenge doth loose.
S. D.

Had I revenged bene of every harme,
My coate had never kept me halfe so warme.
G. Gascoigne.

Though vengeance come behind, and her foote sore,
She overtakes th'offender going before.
Riches. Description of Mammon.

At last he came unto a gloomy glade,
Covered with boughes and shades from heaven light:
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade,
An uncouth, saluage, and uncivill wight,
Of grisly hue, and foule ilfavoured sight:
His face with smoake was tand, and eies were bleard,
His head and beard with sowte were all bedight,
His coale blacke hands did seeme to have bene seard,
In smith-fiers spitting forge, & nails like claws appeard.
His Iron coate all overgrowne with rust,
Was underneath enueloped with gold,
Whose glittering glose darkened with filthy dust
Well it appeared to have bene of old,
A worke of rich entraile and curious molde,
Woven with Anticks and wilde Imagerie,
And in his lap a masse of coyne he tolde
And turned upside downe to feed his eie,
A covetous desire with his huge treasurie:
And round about him lay on every side,
Great heapes of gold that never could be spent,
Of Mulcibers devouring element:
Some others were nere driven and distent
Into great Ingoes and to wedges square,
Some in round plates without monument:
But some were stampt, and in their end all bare,
The Anticke shapes of Kings and Keysars, strange and rare.
Ed. Spencer.
Mammon.

— I riches reade
And deeme them roote of all disquietnes:
First got with guile, and then preserued with dread,
And after spent with pride and lavishnes:
Leaving behind them griefe and heavines.
Infinit mischiefes of them do arise,
Strife and debate, blood-shead and bitternes,
Outragious wrong, and hellish covetize,
That noble heart as great dishonor doth despise.
Idem.

— It's but a little slide
That doth the house of riches from her mouth divide.
Before the doore sate selfe-consuming care,
Day and night keeping wary watch and ward:
For feare least fotce or fraud should unaware
Breake in and spoyle the treasure there ingard.
Ne would he suffer sleepe once thitherward
Approach, albe his drowsie den were next,
For next to death is sleepe to be compared,
Therefore his house is unto his annext,
Here sleep, there riches, & hel gate them both betwixt.
Ed. Spencer.

Well may a rich mans hearse want teares, but heires he shall not misse,
To whom that he is dead at length no little ioy it is.
w. warner.

Good is no good, but if it be spend,
God giveth good for no other end.
Ed. Spencer.

Vessels of brasse, oft handled brightly shine,
What difference betweene the richest mine
And basest earth, but use? for both not usde
Are of little worth: then treasure is abusde
When misers keepe it, being put to lone,
In time it will returne us two for one.
Ch. Marlowe.

Gold is a sutor, never tooke repulse,
It carries Palme with it, (where e're it goes)
Respect, and obseruation; it uncovers
The knottie heads of the most surly Groomes,
Enforcing yron doores to yeeld it way,
Were they as strong ramed up as Aetna gates.
It bends the hams of Gossip Vigilance,
And makes her supple feete, as swift as winde.
It thawes the frostiest, and most stiffe disdaine:
Muffles the clearnesse of Election,
Straines fancie unto foule Apostacie.
And strikes the quickest-sighted judgement blinde.
Then why should we dispaire? dispaire? Away:
Where Gold's the Motive, women have no Nay.
B. johnson.

Wealth in this age will scarcely looke on merit.
Idem.

— Gentry doth small availe,
And vertue lesse, if lands and riches faile.
S. I. H.
Sacriledge.

The common text shall have a common glosse,
Receits in parcels, shall be paid in grosse.
This doctrine preached who from the church doth take
At last shall trebble restitution make.
M. Dray.
Secrecie.

— Secrecie the crowne of a true Lover.
M. Drayton.

— Hard it is to prove
By sight or speech, what bides in secret brest.
S. I. H.

— What can so secret bee,
But out of it will when we do least suspect?
For posts have eares, and walles have eyes to see,
Dumbe beasts and birds have toongs ill to detect.
Idem.
Silence.

Dumbe Silence, sworne attendant on black night,
Thou that hast power to close up murmures iawe:
To stop the barking of the watchfull hound,
And charme the gagling of those waking fowle,
That saved joves Capitoll, milde Queene of rest.
Th. Dekkar.

Soft Silence, and submisse obedience,
Both linkt together never do depart:
Both gifts of God, nor gotten but from thence,
Both girlonds of his saints, against their foes offence.
Ed. Spencer.

— Silence wisedomes mother.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Silence doth seem the maske of base oppression.
Idem.
Sences.

Although things sensible be numberlesse,
But only five the Sences organs bee:
And in those five all things their formes expresse,
Which we can touch, taste, feele, or heare or see.
I. Davies.

Mans eye makes what is seene to seeme so faire,
Mans eare makes what is heard to sound so sweete:
His touch by softnesse every sence is meete
For his owne obiect.
Idem.
Sight.

— The two eyes which have the seeing power,
Stand as one watchman, spie, or Sentinell:
Being placed aloft within the heads hie tower,
And though both seeing, yet both but one thing tell.
Idem.

— Nine things to sight required are,
The power to see, the light, the visible thing:
Being not too small, too thin, too nigh, too farre,
Cleare space; and time the forme distinct to bring.
Idem.

Like as a glasse is an inanimate eye,
And outward formes imbraceth outwardly,
So is the eye an amimate glasse that showes
In formes without us.
G. Chapman.

What we behold is censured by the eyes,
Where both deliberate the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
Ch. Marlowe.

I trow that countenance cannot lye,
Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
M. Roydon.

Often the eye mistakes, the braine being troubled.
W. Sha.

All amorous eyes obseruing forme, thinks parts obscured best.
w. warner.

A greedy eye will have a greedy hand.
D. Lodge.

— A monstrous rabblement
Of fowle mishapen wights, of which some were
Headed like Owles, with beakes uncomely bent:
Others like dogs, others like gryphons dreare,
And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare.
And every one of them had Linceus eies,
And every one did bowes and arrowes beare.
All those were lawlesse lusts, corrupt enuie,
And covetous aspects, all cruell enemies.
Those same against the bulwarke of the sight
Did laie strange siege and battailous assault,
Ne once did yeeld it respit day or night,
But soone as Titan gan his head exault,
And soone againe as he his light withhault
Their wicked engines they against it bent:
That is each thing by which the eyes may fault.
But to them all more huge and violent,
Bewtie and money, they that bulwarke shroudly rent.
Ed. Spencer.
Hearing.

Eares office is the troubled aire to take,
Which in their mazes formes a sound or noyse,
Whereof her selfe her selfe doth true distinction make.
The wickets of the soule are placed on hie,
Because all sounds do lightly mount aloft:
And that they may not pierce too violently,
They are delaid with turnes and windings oft.
I. Davies.

As streames which with their winding bankes do play,
Stopt by their creekes runne softly through the plaine:
So in the eares labyrinth the voyce doth stay,
And doth with easie notice touch the braine.
Idem.

It is the slowest yet the daintiest sence,
For even the eares of such as have no skill,
Perceive a discord and conceive offence,
And knowing not what's good, yet finde the ill.
Idem.

These conduit pipes of knowledge the minde,
But th'other three attend the body still:
For by their seruices the soule doth finde
What things are to the body good or ill.
I. Davies.

The second bulwarke was the hearing sence,
Gainst which the second troupe designment makes
Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,
Some having heads like harts, some like to snakes,
Some wild like boares, late rowzed out of the brakes.
Slaunderous reproaches and foule infamies,
Leasings, backbitings, and vaine-glorious crake.
Bad counsels, praises and false flatteries,
All those against that first did send their batteries.
Ed. Spencer.
Smelling.

Next, in the nosthrils she doth use the Smell,
As God the breath of life in them did give:
So makes he now his power in them to dwell,
To iudge all aires whereby we breathe and hue.
This sence is also mistresse of an art,
Which to soft people sweet petfumes doth sell:
Through this deare art doth little good impart,
Since they smell best that doth of nothing smell.
And ye good sents do purifie the braine,
Awake the fancie, and the wittes refine:
Hence old devotion in aduise did ordaine,
To make mens spirits more apt to thoughts divine.
I. Davies.

Likewise that same third fort that is the smell,
Of that third troupe was cruelly assaide:
Whose hideous shapes were like to fiends of hell.
Some like to hounds, some like to apes dismaide.
Some like to puttocks all in plumes arraide,
All shapte according their conditions,
For by those ougly formes werren portraide
Foolish delights and fond abusions,
Which do that sence besiege with light illusiōs.
Ed. Sp.
Tasting

The bodies life with meates and aire is fed,
Therefore the soule doth use the tasting power,
In vaines which through the tong & pallat spred.
Distinguish every rellish sweet and sower.
This is the bodies nurse: but since mans wit
Found the Art of cookery to delight his sence,
More bodies are consumde and kild with it,
Then with the sword, famine, or pestilence.
I. Davies.

— That fourth band which cruell battery bent
Against the fourth bulwarke, that is the taste:
Was as the rest, a grisly rabblement,
Some mouth like greedy Estriges, some facest
Like loathly Toades, some fashioned in the waste
Like swine, for so deserued his luxurie,
Surfet, misdiet, and unthriftie warke,
Vaine feasts, and idle superfluitie,
All those this sences fort assaile incessantly.
Ed. Sp.
Feeling.

Lastly, the feeling power which is lifes roote,
Through every living part it selfe it selfe doth shed,
By sinewes which extend from head to foote,
And like a net all over the body spred.
Much like a subtill spider which doth sit
In middle of her web which spreddeth wide:
If ought do touth the outmost thred of it,
She feeles it instantly on every side.
I. Davies.

By touch the first pure qualities we learne,
Which quicken all things, hot, cold, moist, and drie:
By touch, hard, soft, rough, swoot, we do discerne,
By touch, sweet pleasure and sharpe paine we trie.
These are the outward instruments of sence.
These are the guardes which every one must passe,
Ere it approach the mindes intelligence,
Or touch the phantasie, wits looking glasse.
Idem.

But the fift troupe most horrible of hue,
And fierce of force was dreadfull to report:
For some like snailes, some did like spiders shewe,
And some like ougly urchins thicke and short,
Cruelly they assailed that fift fort ▪
Armed with darts of sensuall delight,
With strings of carnall lust and strong effect.
Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night
Against the same fift bulwarke they continued fight.
Ed. Spencer.
Sinne.

First we do taste the fruite, then see our sin.
S. Daniell.

Shame followes sin, disgrace is daily given,
Impietie will out, never so closely donne,
No walles can hide us from the eye of heaven,
For shame must end what wickednes begun,
Forth breakes reproach when we least thinke thereon.
Idem.

Like as diseases common cause of death,
Bring daunger most when least they pricke and smart:
Which is a signe they have expulst the breath
Of lively heate which doth defend the hart,
Euen so such sinnes as felt are on no part,
Have conquered grace, and by their wicked ure,
So kild the soule that it can have no cure.
I. Hig. M. of M.

Sinnes haruest never failes, but grace hath death.
D. Lodge.

Cover thou fier never so close within,
Yet out it will, and so will secret sin.
M. of M.

It doubles sinne if finely sinne we practise to prevent.
W.W.

Man may securely sinne, but safely never.
B. Ihonson.

What wight on earth can voyd of fault be found?
What Saint is that who doth not sinne sometime?
Tweene good and bad this difference sole is found,
That good men sinne but seld, and mend betime.
The bad man (making scruple none nor question)
Yeelds willingly to every leaud suggestion.
S. I. H.

Sinnes oft assaid, ere thought to be no sin,
So soileth sinne, the soule it sinketh in.
M. of M.

Shame leaves us by degrees, not at first comming,
For nature checks a new offence with loathing.
But use of sinne doth make it seeme as nothing.
S. Daniell.

What though our sinnes go brave and better clad?
They are as those in rags, as base, as bad.
Idem.

The spot is foule, though by a Monarch made,
Kings cannot priviledge a sinne forbade.
Idem.

— Sinne ever must
Be torturde with the racke of his owne frame,
For he that holds no faith, shall finde no trust,
But sowing wrong, is sure to reape the same.
Idem.

— Cunning sinne being clad in vertues shape,
Flies much reproofe, and many stormes doth scape.
D. Lodge.

— Place for people, people place, and all for sinne decay.
w. warner.

To punish sinne is good, it is no nay,
They wrecke not sinne, but merit wrecke for sinne
The fathers fault that wreake upon the kin.
M. of M.

The sinne to which a man by love is driven,
So much rhe rather ought to be forgiven.
S. I. H.
Slaunder.

Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort,
Foming with poyson round about her gils,
In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short,
Appeard like Aspes sting, that closely kils,
Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils,
A distaffe in her other hand she had,
Vpon the which she litle spins but spils,
And faine to weave false tales and leasings bad
To throw amongst the gods which others had dispred.
Ed. Sp.

Her nature is, all goodnesse to abuse,
And causelesse crimes continually to frame:
With which she guiltlesse persons may abuse,
And stole away the crowne of her good name,
Ne ever knight so bold, ne ever dame
So chaste and loyall lived, but she would strive
With forged cause, them falsly to defame.
Ne ever thing was done so well alive,
But she with blame would blot, and of dve praise deprive.
Idem.

All like the stings of Asps, that kill with smart,
Her spightfull words do pierce and wound the inner part.
Idem.

Foule canker of faire vertuous action,
Vile blaster of rhe fresh bloomes here on earth,
Enuies abhorred child detraction.
I. Marston.

Happie is he that lives in such a sort,
That need not feare the tongues of false report.
E. of S.

The vulgar tongues are armed evermore
With slaunderous brute, to blemish the renowne
Of vertuous dames; which though at first it spring,
Of slender cause, yet doth it swell so fast,
As in short space it filleth every eare
With swift report of undeserued blame.
G. Gascoigne.

— It ever hath bene knowne,
They other vertues scorne that doubt their owne.
S. Daniell.

No plaister heales a deadly poysoned sore,
No secret hid where slaunder keepes the dore.
M. Drayton.

Against bad tongues goodnesse cannot defend her,
Those be most free from faults, they least will spare,
But prate of them whom they have scantly knowne,
judging their humours to be like their owne.
S. I. H.

Slaunder once set on foot though false, is talkt in every street.
V V. V Varner.

No wound with warlike hand of enemie
Inflict with dint of sword so sore doth light,
As doth the poysonous sting which infamie
Infuseth in the name of noble wight.
It never can recured be againe,
Ne all the skill which that immortall spright
Of Podalyrius did in it retaine,
Can remedie such hurts: such hurts are hellish paine.
Ed. Sp.

A sprightly wit disdaines detraction.
I. Marston.

Backbiting pens, and pens that sooth up sinne,
•nuious the one, th'other clawbacks binne.
I. Syl.
Sleepe.

Amidst a darke thicke wood there is a cave,
Whose entrance is with juie overspread,
They have no light within, nor none they crave,
•ere Sleepe doth couch her overdrowsie head,
•nd sloath lies by that seemes the goute to have.
•nd Idlenes not so well taught as fed,
•hey point forgetfulnes the gate to keepe,
•hat none come out or in to hinder Sleepe.
•he knowes no meanes of men, ne none will learne,
•heir messages she list not understand:
She knowes no busines doth her concerne,
Silence is Sentinell of all this band,
And unto those he comming doth discerne
To come too neere, he beckens with his hand,
He treadeth soft, his shooes are made of felt,
His garment short, and girded with a belt.
S. I. H.

By care lay heavie sleepe, the couzen of death,
Flat on the ground, and still as any stone:
A very corps, save yeelding forth a breath,
Small keepe tooke he whom fortune frownd on,
Or whom she lifted up into the throne
Of high renowne: but as a living death,
So dead alive, of life he drew the breath.
M. Sack.

A drowsie head to earth by dull desire
Draws downe the soule that should to heaven aspire.
Writing these later lines, wearie well-nie
Of sacred Pallas, pleasing labour deare,
Mine humble chin saluteth oft my brest,
With an Ambrosian deawe mine eies possest
By peece-meale close; all mooving powers die still,
From my dull fingers drops my fainting quill.
Downe in my sloath-bound bed againe I shrinke,
And in darke Laethe all deepe cares I sinke.
I. Syl.
Solitarinesse.

Sweete solitarie life thou true repose,
Wherein the wise contemplate heaven aright,
In thee no dread of warre or worldly foes,
In thee no pompe seduceth mortall sight.
In thee no wanton eares to winne with words,
Nor lurking toies which silly life affords.
D.L.
Souldiers.

— O Souldiers enuie neere ally to Kings
Maiesticke humour, carefull iealous thought:
Thou, which awakest us from ignoble things,
A passion nearest to a godhead brought.
Onely indefinite: to whom none brings
Limit or bound, thou greater then our thought,
Who holds thee, holds a power to make him able,
Who looses then, becomes most miserable.
I. Mark,

None is so poore of sence and eine,
To whom a souldier doth not shine.
G. Chap.

No elegancie can bewtifie
A shamelesse lumpe of gluttonie:
His heart sweete Cupids tents reiects,
That onely meate and drinke affects.
O Flora all mens intellects,
Know souldiers power such respects,
Meere helpes for need his minde sufficeth,
Dull sleepe and surfets he despiseth:
Loves trumpe his temples exerciseth,
Courage and love his life compriseth.
Idem.
Soule.

— He that spread the skies
And fixt the earth, first formed the soule in man,
This true Prometheus first made men of earth,
And shead in him a beame of heavenly fier,
Now in their mothers wombes before their birth,
Doth in all sonnes of men their soules inspire.
And as Minerua is in fables fainde
From jove, without an other to proceed,
So our true jove without an others aide,
Doth daily millions of Mineruaes breed.
I Davies.

Like as the sunne above the light doth bring,
Though we behold it in the aire belowe,
So from the eternall light the soule doth spring,
Though in the body she her powers do showe.
Idem.

The soule a substance and a body is,
Which God himselfe doth in the body make,
Which makes the man; or every man from this
The nature of a man and name doth take.
And though the spirit be to the body knit,
As an apt meane her power to exercise:
Which are, life, motion, sense, and will and wit,
Yet she suruives, although the body dies.
Shee is a substance and a reall thing,
Which hath it selfe it selfe an actuall working might,
Which neither from the senses power doth spring,
Nor from the bodies humours tempered right.
She is a vine which doth no propping need,
To make her spread her selfe her selfe, or spring upright,
She is a starre whose beames do not proceed
From any sinne, but from a native light.
Idem.

She is a spirit and an heavenly influence,
Which from the fountaine of Gods spirit doth flowe,
Shee's a spirit, yet not like aire nor winde,
Nor like the spirits about the heart or braine,
Nor like the spirits which Alchimists definde,
When they in every thing seeke gold in vaine.
Idem.

— To shew her powerfull deitie,
Her sweete Endimion more to beautifie,
Into his soule the goddesse doth infuse,
The fierie Nature of an heavenly Muse:
Which the spirit labouring by the mind,
Partaketh of celestiall things by kind:
For why the soule being divine alone,
Exempt from grosse and vild corruption,
Of heavenly secrets incomprehensible,
Of which the dull flesh is not sensible ▪
And by one onely powerfull facultie,
Yet governeth a multiplicitie,
Being essentiall, uniforme in all,
Not to be severed or dividuall:
But in her function holdeth her estate,
By powers divine in her ingenerate:
And so by inspiration conceiveth,
What heaven to her by divination breatheth.
M. Drayton.

Like as the soule doth rule the earthlie masse,
And all the seruice of the body frame,
So love of soule doth love of body passe,
No lesse then perfect gold surmounts the meanest brasse,
Ed. Spencer.

Euerie good motion that the soule awakes,
A heavenly figure sees from whence it takes,
That sweetelesse bloome which by power of kinde,
Formes like it selfe it selfe an image of the mind,
And in our faith the operations be,
Of that divinesse which by fayth wee see,
Which never erres but accidentally,
By our fraile fleshes in becilitie,
By each temptation over-apt to slide,
Except our spirit becomes our bodyes guide.
For as our bodyes prisons bee the towres,
So to our soules these bodyes be of ours,
Whose fleshly walles hinder that heavenly light,
As these stone walles deprive our wished sight.
Idem.

— As Phoebus throwes
His beames abroade, though hee in clouds bee closed
Still glauncing by them till she finde opposed
A loose and rorid vapour, that is fit
T'event his searching beames, and useth it
To forme a twentie coloured eie,
Cast in a circle round about the skie.
So when our fierie soule, our bodies starre,
(That ever is in motion circular)
Conceives a form in seeking to display it,
Through all our cloudy parts it doth conuey it:
Forth at the eye, as the most pregnant place,
And that reflects it round about the face.
Idem.

Like as the moysture which the thirstie earth
Sucks from the Sea to fill her emptie vaines,
From out her wombe at last doth take a birth,
And runnes a nymph along the grassie plaines:
Long doth shee stay, as loth to leave the land,
From whose soft side she first did issue make,
She tasts all places, turnes to everie hand,
Her flowing bankes unwilling to forsake,
Yet nature so her streames doth leade and carrie,
As that her course doth make no finall stay,
Till shee her selfe her selfe unto the Ocean marrie,
Within whose watrie bosome first shee lay.
Euen so our soule within this earthly mould,
The spirit doth secretly infuse,
Because at first shee doth the earth behold,
And onely this materiall world shee viewes.
At first our mother earth shee holdeth deere,
And doth imbrace the world and worldly things,
She flies close to the ground and hovers heere,
And mounts not up with her celestiall wings.
Yet under heaven shee cannot light on ought,
That with her heavenly nature doth agree,
She cannot rest, she cannot fixe her thought,
She cannot in this world contented bee.
I. Davies.

When the soule findes heere no true content,
And like Noahs Dove, can no sure footing take,
She doth returne from whence shee first was sent,
And flies to him that first her wings did make.
Idem.

Heven waxeth old, and all the spheres above
Shall one day faynt, and their swift motion stay,
And time it selfe it selfe shall cease in time to moove,
Onely the soule suruives and lives for aye.
Idem.

When as the soule is drowned once in vice,
The sweete of sinne makes hell a Paradice ▪
M, Drayton,


•s is the fable of the Lady faire,
Which for her lust was turnde into a cow,
When thirstie to a streame she did repaire,
And saw her selfe her selfe transformde she knew not how,
At first she startles, and she stands amazd,
And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gazd:
At last for terror she from thence doth flie,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die.
Euen so mans soule, which did Gods image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure,
Since with her sinnes her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least indure:
For even at first reflecting she espies
Such strange Chimeraes and such monsters there,
Such toyes, such antickes, and such vanities,
As she retyres, and shrinks for shame and feare.
I. Davis.

Euen as the man loves least at home to bee,
That hath a sluttish house haunted with spirits,
So she impatient her owne faults to see,
Turnes from her selfe her selfe, and in strange things delights ▪
Idem.

— Tis a sacred cure
To salue the soules dread wounds, omnipotent
That nature is, that cures the impotent
Euen in a moment, sure grace is infusde
By divine favour, nor by actions usde:
Which is as permanent as heavens blisse,
To them that have it, then no habit is.
I. Marston.

That learned Father which so firmely prooves
The soule of man immortall and divine,
And doth the severall offices define.
Anima.

Gives her that name as she the body moves.
Amor.

Then is shee love imbracing charitie.
Animus.

Moving a will in us, it is the mind.
Mens.

Retaining knowledge still the same in kind.
Memoria.

As intellectuall it is the memorie.
Ratio.

In iudging, Reason onely is her name.
Sensus.

In speedie apprehension it is Sence.
Conscientia.

In right or wrong men call her Conscience.
Spiritus.

The Spirit, when to Godward it doth inflame.
These of the soule the severall functions bee.
M. Drayton.

Like as two bellowes blowne turne by turne,
By little and little make cold coles to burne,
And then their fire inflamde with glowing heate,
An iron barre which on the Anuile beate,
Seemes no more yron, but flies almost all,
In hissing sparkles and quicke-bright cinders small.
So the worlds soule should in our soule inspire,
Th'eternall force of an eternall fire,
And then our soule (as forme) breathe in our corse,
Her countlesse numbers, and heavens turned force,
Wherewith our bodyes beautie beautified,
Should like our (deathlesse soule) have never died.
I. Syluester.
Of Sorrow.

In blacke all clad there fell before my face,
A ptiteous wight whom woe had all forewast,
Forth on her eyes the cristall teares out brast,
And sighing fore her hands shee wrung and fold,
Tare all her haire, that ruth was to behold;
Her body small, sore withered and fore spent,
As is the stalke that summers drought opprest,
Her welked face with wofull teares besprent:
Her colour pale (as it seemed) her best,
In woe and plaint reposed was her rest:
And as the stone that drops of water weares,
So dented were her cheekes with fall of teares:
Her eyes swollen with flowing streames afloate,
Wherewith her lookes throwne up full pitiously,
Her forcelesse handes together oft she smote,
With dolefull shrikes that ecchoed in the skie,
Whose plaints such sighs did strait accompanie,
That in my doome was never man did see
A wight but halfe so woe-begone as shee.
Sorrow I am, in endlesse sorrowes pained,
Among the furies in the infernall lake,
Where Pluto God of hell so grisly blacke,
Doth hold his throne and Laethes deadly taste,
Doth rive remembrance of each thing fore-past.
M. Sackuile.

Sorrows first leader of this furious crowde,
Muffled all over in a sable clowde,
Olde before age, afflicted night and day,
Her face with wrinkles warped everie way,
Creeping in corners, where shee sits and vies;
Sighs from her heart, teares for her blubbered eies,
Accompanied with selfe-consuming care,
With weeping pittie, thought, and mad dispayre,
That beares about her burning coles and cords,
Aspes, poysons, pistols, haulters, knives, and swords,
Foule squinting enuie, that selfe-eating elfe,
Through others leannesse fatting up her selfe her selfe,
joyning in mischiefe, feeding but with langour,
And bitter teares, her toad-like swelling anger,
And iealousie that never sleepes for feare,
(Suspitious flea still nibling in her eare)
That leaves repast and rest, neere pinde and blinde,
With seeking what shee would bee loth to finde.
I. Siluester.

Two inward vulturs, sorrow and disdaine.
Sorow misfortunes sonne, dispayres foule fire.
Ed. Fairfax.

Sorrow breakes seasons and reposing howres,
Makes the night morning, and the noone tide night,
W. Shakespeare.

Sorrow is still unwilling to give over.
S. Daniell.

Sorrow grows sencelesse when too much she beares.
M. Dr.

Sad sorrow like a heavie ringing bell,
Once set in ringing, with his owne weight goes,
Then little strength rings out the dolefull knel.
W. Sh.

It is some ease our sorrowes to reveale,
If they to whome we shall impart our woes,
Seeme but to feele a part of what we feele.
And meete us with a sigh but at a close.
S. Daniell.

Sighes are the ease calamitie affoords,
Which serue for speech when sorrow wanteth words.
Idem.

Fell sorrowes tooth never ranckles more,
Then when it bites, but launcheth not the sore.
Idem.

— Sorrow close shrouded in the heart.
I know to keep, it is a wondrous smart,
Each thing imparted, is more ease to beare,
When the raine is fallen, the cloudes waxe cleere.
Ed. Spencer.

— Sorrow ne neede be hastened on,
For he will come without calling anon.
Idem.

— Snarling sorrow hath lesse powrc to bite
The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.
Ed. Spencer.

He that his sorrow sought through wilfulnesse,
And his foe fettered would release againe,
Deserues to tast his follies fruit, repented paine.
Ed. Spencer.

— Mirth doth search the bottom of annoy,
Sad soules are slaine in mirthie companie,
Greefe best is pleasde with griefes societie:
True sorrow then is feelingly suffizde,
When with like sorrow it is sympathizde.
True sorrow hath not ever a wet eye.
Th. Dekker.

Sad sorrow ever ioyes to heare her worst.
S. D.
Suspition.

— False suspition of another is
A sure condemning of our owne amis.
Edw. Gilpin.

Mistrust doth treason in the truest raise,
Suspitious Romulus stained his walles first reared
With brothers bloud, whom for light leape he feard,
The iealous cuckold weares th'infamous horne,
So not in brotherhood, iealousie may bee borne.
M. of M.

Rivalles in love will be suspitious quickly.
I. Weever.

The Marchant traffiking abroad, suspects his wife at home
A youth wil play the wanton, & a wanton prove a mome.
W. Warner.
Teares.

— These two parts belong
Vnto true knowledge, words and teares have force,
To moove compassion in the savage mindes
Of brutish people reason wanting kindes.
Tho. Middleton.

Teares, vows, and prayers gaine the hardest hearts.
S. Daniell.

Teares worke no truce, but where the heart is tender.
D. Lodge.

Teares harden lust, though marble weare with raine.
W. Sh.

Seld speaketh love, but sighes his secret paines,
Teares are his truch-men, words do make him tremble.
R. Greene.

Teares cannot soften flint, nor vowes conuert.
S. D.

A dolefull case desires a dolefull song,
Without vaine art, or curious complement,
And squallid fortune into basenesse flung,
Doth scorne the pride of wonted ornament.
Ed. Spencer.
Temperance.

— Temperance which golden squire,
Betwixt these two can measure out a meane,
Neither to melt in pleasures hot desire,
Nor frie in heartlesse greefe and dolefull teene,
Thrise happie man who faires them both a tweene.
Ed. Spencer.

Who ever doth to Temperance applie
His stedfast life, and all his actions frame,
Trust mee shall finde no greater enemie,
Then stubburne perturbation to the same:
To which right well the wise doe give that name:
For it the goodly peace of stayed mindes
Does overthrew, and troublous warre proclaime,
His owne woes author, who so bound it finds,
As did Pyrrhocles, and it wilfully unbinde.
Idem.

A harder lesson to learne continence,
In ioyous pleasure then in greevous paine,
For sweetenesse doth allure the weakest sence.
So strongly that unneath it can refraine,
From that which feeble nature covers faine,
But greefe and wrath that bee her enemies
And foes of life shee better can restraine,
Yet vertue vaunts in both theyr victories.
Idem.

O in what safetie Temperance doth rest,
When it findes harbour in a kingly brest.
M. Drayton.

Of all Gods works which do this world adorne,
There is none more fayre and excellent
Then is mans body, both for power and forme,
Whilst it is kept in sober governement:
But none then it more foule and indecent,
Distempered through misrules, and passions base,
It growes a monster, and incontinent,
Doth loose his dignitie and native grace.
Ed. Spencer.
Thoughts.

Thoughts are the slaves of life, and life times foole,
And time that takes suruey of all the world
Must have a stop.
W. Shakespeare.

Thoughts are but dreames, till their effects be tried.
Idem.

Who so thinkes many things, brings few to a fortunate ending.
A. Fraunce.

The feeble eyes of our aspring thoughts,
Behold things present, and record things past,
But things to come exceede our humane reach.
G. Peele.

Vnfained thoughts do seldome dreame on evil.
Birdes never limde no secret bushes feare.
W. Sh.

If all mens thoughts were written in their face,
Some one that now the rest doth overcrow,
Some others ebbe that wants his soveraignes grace,
When as the Prince their inwarde thoughts should know
The meaner then should take the better place,
The greatest man might stoope and sit below.
S. I. Harrington.
Time.

Beauties great enemie, and to all the rest
That in the garden of Adonis springs,
Is wicked Time, who with his sithe addrest,
Does mow the flowing herbes and goodly things,
And all their glorie to the earth downe flings,
Where they do wither, and are fouly marde,
He flies about, and with his flaggie wings,
Beates downe both leaves and buds without regard.
Ne ever pittie may relent his malice hard.
E. Spencer.

Mishapen Time, coapsmate of ugly might,
Swift subtill poast, carrier of grislie care,
Eater of youth, false slave to false delight,
Base watch of woes, sinnes packhorse, vertues snare,
Thou nursest all, and murtherest all that are.
W. Shakespeare.

Stealing Time the subiect to delay.
S. Ph. Sydney.

— Times golden thigh
Vpholdes the flowrie body of the earth,
In sacred harmonie and everie birth
Of men, audacious makes legitimate,
Being usde aright, the use of times is fate.
G. Chapman.

No mortall forme that under moone remaines,
Exempt from traiterous Time, continueth one.
Now mountes the floud, and straight his waves restrains
Now flowes the tyde, and strait the sourse is gone,
Who toyles by Sea, must choose the fayrest gale,
For time abodes our good or badde availe ▪
D. Lodge.

Al those that live and thinke themselues but slime,
Must choose and thrive by favour of the time.
Idem.

Swift speedie Time, feathered with flying howres,
Dissolues the beautie of the fayrest browe.
S. Daniell.

Time doth consume fame, honour, wit, & strength,
Time roots out youth and beauties looke at length.
Tho. Watson.

Time wanting bonds, still wanteth certaintie.
M. Dr.

To Fames rich treasure Time unlocks the doore,
Which angrie sorrow had shut up before.
Idem.

Time is a bondslave to eternitie.
Tho. Kyd.

All that doth live is subiect to his law,
All things decay in time, and to their end do draw.
Ed. Spencer.

What wrong hath not continuance out-worne,
Yeares makes that right that never was so borne.
S. Daniell.

Good time is blest, badde time wee hold accurst,
Time hurts them oft that he did helpe at first.
T. Churchyard.

Times glory is to calme contending kings,
To unmaske falshood, and bring truth to light,
To stampe the seale of time in aged things,
To wake the morne, and sentinell the night,
To wrong the wronger till hee render right:
To rvinate proude bvildings with his howres,
And smeare with dust their glittering golden towres,
To fill with worm holes stately monuments,
To feede oblivion with decay of things,
To blot old Bookes, and alter their contents,
To pull the quilles from auncient Ravens wings,
To drie the old okes sappe, and cherish springs
To spoyle antiquities of hammered steele,
And turne the giddie round of fortunes wheele,
To shew the Beldame daughters of her daughters,
To make the child a man, the man a child,
To slay the tyger that doth lively slaughter,
To tame the unicorne and the lyon wilde,
To make the subtill in themselues be guild,
To cheere the plow-man with increasefull crops,
And waste huge stones with little water-drops.
W. Shakespeare.
Truth.

The Truth doth doth dwell within the holy tables,
Of Gods live word, not in our wanton braine,
Which dayly coyning some strange error vaine,
For gold takes lead, for truth electeth Fables.
I. Siluester.

Truth is no harauld, nor no so sophist sure,
She noteth not mens names, their sheelds or crests,
Though shee compare them unto birds and beasts,
But whom shee doth fore-shew shall raigne by force,
Shee tearmes a woolfe, a dragon, or a beare,
A wilfull Prince, a raignelesse raging horse,
A boare, a lion, a coward much in feare,
A hare or hart, a craftie pricked eare,
A lecherous, a bull, a goate, a foale,
An underminer, a mould-warpe, or a moale.
M. of M.

— Tried truth
Doth best be seeme a simple naked tale,
Ne needes to bee with paynted processe prickt,
That in her selfe her selfe hath no diversitie,
But alwayes shewes one undisguised face,
Where deepe deceit and lies must seeke her shade,
And wrappe their words in guilefull eloquence,
As ever fraught with contrarietie.
G. Gascoigne.

The truth hath certaine bounds, but falshood none.
S. Daniell.

— The naked truth is a well-clothed lie,
A nimble quicke pale meunts to dignitie
By force or fraud, that matters not a iot,
So massie wealth may fall unto thy lot.
Io. Marston.
Treason.

Conspiracie gainst the person of a Prince,
Is treason gainst the deitie of heaven.
Th. Achellye.

— Treason is but trusted like the Foxe,
Who nere so tamde, so cherisht, and lockt up,
Will have a wilde tricke of his auncetors.
W. Sh.

No vertue merits prayse once toucht with blot of treason.
S. Ph. Sydney.

Who fayleth one is false, though trusty to another ▪
Idem.

There is no treason woundeth halfe so deepe,
As that which doth in Princes bosome sleepe.
M. Drayton.

Who that resisteth his dread soveraigne Lord,
Doth damne his soule by Gods owne verie word,
A Christian subiect should with honour dve,
Obey his soveraigne though he were a jew,
Whereby assured when subiects do rebell,
Gods wrath is kindled, threatning fire and hell.
M. of M.

Was never rebell before the world and since,
That could or should prevaile against his Prince.
Idem.

Revolted subiects of themselues will quaile.
I. Syluester.
Tyrannie.

— Next to Tyrannie
Comes warres, discention, civill mutinie.
Ch. Middl.

In greatest wants t'inflict the greatest woe,
This is the worst that tyrannie can show.
Idem.

Hell haleth tyrants downe to death amaine,
Was never yet, nor shall bee cruell deede
Vnquited left, but had as cruell meed.
M. of M.

— No tyrant commonly
Living ill can kindly die,
But either trayterously surprizde
Doth coward poyson quayle their breath,
Or their people have devizde,
Or theyr Guard to seeke their death.
Tho. Kyd.

It is an hell in hatefull vassallage,
Vnder a tyrant to consume ones age,
A selfe-shaven Dennis, or an Nero fell,
Whose cursed Courts with bloud and incest swell:
An Owle that flyes the light of Parliaments
And state assemblies, iealous of th'intents
Of Private tongues, who for a pastime sets
His Peeres at oddes, and on their furie whets,
Who neither fayth, honour, nor right respects.
Idem.
Vertue.

What one art thou thus in torne weede yclad?
Vertue, in price, whom auncient sages had:
Why poorely clad? for fading goods past care:
Why double faced? I marke each fortunes rare:
This bridle what? mindes rages to restraine:
Why beare you tooles? I love to take great paine:
Why wings? I teach above the starres to flie:
Why treade you death? I onely cannot die.
S. Th. Wiat.

The path that leades to Vertues Court is narrow,
Thornie, and up a hill, a bitter iourney:
But being gone through, you find al heavenly sweets,
Th'entrance is all flintie, but at th'end
Two Towres of pearles and cristall you ascend.
Th. Dekkar.

Vertue is fayrest in a poore art aye.
Idem.

Vertue abhorres too weare a borrowed face.
Idem.

The wisest scholler of the wight most wise,
By Phoebus doome, with sugred sentence saies,
That vertue If it once meete with our eyes,
Strange flames of love it in our soules would raise.
S. Ph. Sydney.

That growes apace, that vertue helps t'aspire.
M. R••don.

When vertue riseth, base affections fall.
Ed. Fairfax.

Like as the horse well mand abides the bit,
And learnes his stoppe by raine in riders hand,
Where mountaine colt that is not sadled yet,
Runnes headlong on amidst the fallowed land,
Whose fierce resist scarce bendes with any band.
So men reclaimed by vertue tread aright,
Where ledde by follies, mischiefes on them light.
D. Lodge.

Vertue doth •urb affection, and for conscience flieth sin,
To leave for imperfection feare or shame no praise doth winne.
W. Warner.

Vertue it selfe it selfe turnes vice, being misapplyed,
And vice sometime by action dignified.
W. Shakespeare.

Vertue in greatest daunger is most showne,
And though opprest, yet nere is overthrowne.
S. Daniell.

In vertue it is said, that men themselues suruie.
W. W.

Honour indeede, and all things yeeld to death,
(Vertue excepted) which alone suruives,
And living toyleth in an earthlie gaile,
At last to be extoled in heavens high ioyes.
T. Kyd.

All things decay, yet vertue shall not die,
This onely gives us immortallitie.
M. Drayton.

Whence is it that the flower of the field doth fade,
And lyeth buried long in winters bale,
Yet soon as spring his mantle doth display,
It flowreth fresh, as it should never faile,
But thing on earth that is of most availe.
As vertues and beauties bud,
Releeven not for any good,
The branch once dead, the bud needes eke must quaile ▪
Ed. Spencer.

All that wee had, or mortall men can have,
Seemes onely hut a shadow from the grave,
Vertue alone lives still.
Th. Dekkar.

Vertue is more amiable and more sweete,
When vertue and true maiestie doe meete.
E. Spencer.

— All the sorow in the world is lesse
Then vertues might and valures confidence,
For who will bide the burden of distresse,
Must not heere thinke to live, for life is wretchednes.
Idem.

Vertue makes honour, as the soule doth sence,
And merit, farre exceedes inheritance.
G. Chapman.

— Vertue of the •uncient bloud and kin,
Doth onely please the parties shee is in.
M. of M.

— Onely vertue noblenesse doth dignifie,
And vicious life a linage base doth signifie.
S. I. Harrington.

The simple vertue may consist alone,
But better are two vertues joind in one.
D. Lodge.

What vertue gets, once got doth never waste,
And having this, this thou for ever haste.
M. Dryaton.

joy graven in sence, like snow in water wasts,
Without preserue of vertue nothings lasts.
G. Chapman.

Vertue obscurde yeeldes small and happie gaines,
But actively imployed, shee worth retaines.
D. Lodge.

What vertue breedes, iniquitie devours,
We have no good at all that we can say is ours ▪
But ill annexed oportunitie,
Or killes his life or else his qualitie.
W. Sh.

Vertue dies not, her tomb we need not rayse,
Let them trust tombs which have out-lived their praise.
Th. Bastard.
Vice.

Vice rides a horseback, Vertue doth from out the saddl• boult.
W. Warner.

What licour first the earthen pot doth take,
It keepeth still the savour of the same,
Full hard it is a camocke straight to make,
Or crooked logges with wainscot fine to frame,
Tis hard to make the cruell Tyger tame:
And so it fares with those have vices caught,
Nought (once they say) and ever after nought.
M. of M.

Although •hat vertue oft wants dve reward,
Yet seldome vice wants dve deserued blame,
S. I. H.

Where vice is countenanced with Nobilitie,
Art cleane excluded, ignorance held in,
Blinding the world with meere hypocrisie,
Yet must bee soothed in all their slavish sinne,
Great malcontents to grow they then beginne,
Nursing vild wittes to make their factious tooles,
Thus mightie men oft proove the mightiest fooles.
M. Drayton.
Victory.

With victorie revenge doth ever cease,
S. I. H.

Hee liveth long that lives victorious.
Th. Kyd.

The victor can no honour iustly claime,
To loose the men who should aduaunce the same.

— That fisher is not fine,
Who for a frogge will loose a golden line:
The holy head-band seemes not to attyre
The head of him, who in his furious ire,
Preferres the paine of those that have him teend,
Before the health and safetie of one friend.
Tho. Hudson.

Vaine is the vaunt and victorie uniust,
That more to mightie hands then rightful cause doth trust.
Edw. Spencer.

Losse is no shame, nor to bee lesse then foe,
But to be lesser then himselfe, doth marre
Both loosers lotte, and victors prayse also,
Vaine others overthrowes, who self doth overthrow.
Idem.
Vnderstanding.

Most miserable creature under skie
Man, without understanding doth appeare,
For all this worlds affliction he thereby,
And fortunes freates is wisely taught to beare:
Of wretched life the onely ioy shee is,
And th'onely comfort in calamitie,
She armes the breast with constant patience,
Against the bitter throwes of dolours darts,
She solaceth with rules of sapience,
The gentle mindes in midst of worldly smarts,
When hee is sadde, she seekes to make him merie,
And doth refresh his spirits when they bee wearie,
Ed. Spencer.
Vowes.

Good vowes are never broken with good deedes,
For then good deedes were bad: vowes are but seeds,
And good deedes fruits.
G. Chapman.

Wee know not how to vow, till love unblind us,
And vowes made ignorantly never binde us.
Idem.

Our vowes must bee performed to God and King.
M. Drayton.

— A promise made for feare is voyde.
S. I. H.

— A man such promise must forsake,
As at the first unlawfull was to make.
Idem.
Virginitie.

Like to the Rose I count the virgin pure,
That groweth on native stemme in garden fayre,
Which whiles it stands with walles enuironed sure,
Where herd-men with their herds cannot repayre
To savour it, it seemeth to allure
The morning dew, the heate, the earthly ayre,
Gallant yong men and lovely dames delight
By their sweete sent, and in their pleasing sight:
But when that once tis gathered and gone
From proper stalke, where late before it grew,
The love the liking little is or none,
Favour, and grace, beautie and all adue:
So when a virgin graunts to one alone,
The precious flower for which so many sve:
Well hee that getteth it may love her best,
But shee forgoes the love of all the rest.
S. I. H.

jewels being lost, are found againe, this never,
Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost for ever.
Ch. Marlow.

Virginitie though praysed is like a bird, for why,
As much the flesh is frayle therein, as in the feare to die,
What was it sayd to all but us increase and multiplie?
W. Warner.

— Virginitie
Is neither essence subiect to the eye,
No nor to any one exterior sence,
Nor hath it any place of residence,
Nor iest of earth or mould celestiall,
Or capable of any forme at all.
Ch. Marlow.

I know not her that willingly with maiden-head would die.
W. W.
Vse.

Vse make things nothing huge, and huge things nothing.
G. Chapman.

Foule cankering rust the hidden treasure frets.
But gold thats put to use, more gold begets.
W. Sh.
Warre.

Lastly stood warre in glistering armes yclad,
With visage grimme, sterne lookes and gastly hood,
In his right hand a naked sword hee had,
That to the hilts was all with bloud imbrude,
And in his left that kings and kingdomes rved,
Famine and fire he had, and there withall
Hee rased townes, and threw downe towres and all,
Cities hee sackt, and realmes that whilome flowred
In honour, glorie, and rule above the best,
Hee overwhhlmed, and all their fame devoured,
Consumde, destroyde, wasted, and never ceast,
Till hee therewith their name and all opprest:
His face forhued with woundes, and by his side,
There hung his targe with gashes deepe and wide,
In midst of which depainted there wee finde
Deadly debate, all full of snakie hayre,
That with a bloudy fillet was ybound,
Out-breathing noght, but discord everie where.
M. Sackuille.

The Poets old in their fond fables faind,
That mightie Mars is God of warre and strife:
Th' Astronomers think that wheras Mars doth raign
That all debate and discord must bee rife:
Some thinke Bellona, Goddesse of that life.
Among the rest that Painter had some skill,
Which thus in armes did once set out the same,
A field of gules, and on a golden hill.
A stately towne consumed all with flame,
On chiefe of sable taken from the dame,
A sucking babe (O) borne to bide mischance,
Begoard with bloud, and pierced with a launce.
On high the Helme, I beare it well in mind,
The wreath was siluer powdred all with shot,
About the which (goutte du sang) did twind.
A rowle of sable blacke, and foule beblot,
The crest two hands, which may not bee forgot,
For in the right a trenchand blade did stand,
And in the left a fierie burning brand.
G. Gascoigne.

— Warre the mistresse of enormitie,
Mother of mischiefe, monster of deformitie,
Lawes, manners, arts, shee breakes, shee marres, shee chaces,
Bloud, teares, bowres, towres, she spils, smites, burns, & races,
Her brasen teeth shake al the earth asunder:
Her mouth a fire-brand, and her voyce a thunder,
Her lookes are lightning, everie glaunce a flash,
Her fingers guns, that all to powder pash,
Feare and dispayre, flight and disorder, coast
With hastie march before her murderous hoast,
As burning, waste, rape, wrong, impietie,
Rage, rvines, discord, horror, crueltie,
Sacke, sacriledge, impunitie pride,
Are still sterne consorts by her barbarous side.
And povertie, sorrow, and desolation,
Follow her armies bloudie transmigration.
I· Siluester.

O warre begot in pride and luxurie,
The child of wrath and of dissention ▪
Horrible good, mischiefe necessarie,
The foule reformer of confusion:
Vniust iust, scourge for our iniquitie.
Cruell recurer of corruption.
S. Daniell.

O goodly usage of those anticke times,
In which the sword was seruant unto right,
V Vhen not for malice and contentious crimes,
But all for praise, and proofe of manly might,
The martiall broode accustomed to fight:
Then honour was the meede of victorie,
And yet the vanquished had no dispight,
Let later age, that now the use enuie,
Vild rancour so avoyd and cruell furquedry.
Ed. Spencer.

Warre rightly handled is most excellent,
And easie makes impossibilitie:
It mounts the Alps, and through the seas doth rent ▪
By it in bloud a way to heaven wee see.
I. Markham.

Vnder warres brazen feete stoopes all the earth,
His mouth a flaming brand, his voyce a thunder,
Idem.

No warre is right, but that which needfull is,
S. Daniell.

The God of warre hath many men in store,
Which wait alwaies to keepe his kingdome up,
Of whom no one doth shew his seruice more,
Then lingring hope, which still doth be•re the cup,
And flatteringly lendes everie man a sup,
Which haunts his course, or in his progesse passe,
Hope brings the bowle wherin they all must quaffe,
G. Gascoigne.

Warre seemeth sweete to such as raunge it not.
Idem.

Men know not Warre, nor rightly how to deeme it,
That first by War have not been taught t'esteeme it.
S. I. H.

— Wise men ever have preferred farre,
Th'uniustest peace, before the iustest Warre.
S. Daniell.

— Time obseruing providence and Warre,
Still makes their foes farre stronger then they are.
Idem.

Sad be the sights and bitter fruits of Warre,
And thousande furies wait on wrathfull sword,
Ne ought the prayse of prowesse more doth marre,
Then foule revenging rage and proud contentious iarre.
Ed. Spencer.

— Great revenew
The chiefest sinew unto Warre affoords.
D. Lodge.

— Warres that publike good pretend,
Worke most in iustice being doone for spight,
For th'agreeved evermore doe bend,
Against those whom they see of greatest might,
Who though themselues are wrongd and often forst,
Yet though they can doe most are thought the worst.
S. Daniell.

— Mars is Cupidoes friend
And is for Venus love renouned more,
Then al the wars and spoiles the which he did before.
Ed. Spencer.
Will.

From idle witte, there springs a braine-sicke will,
With wise men lust, which foolish make a God,
This in the shape of vertue raigneth still.
D. Lodge.

Will puts in practise what the wit deviseth.
Will ever acts, and wit contemplates still,
And as from witte the power of wisedome riseth,
All other vertues daughters are of will.
Idem.

Will is the Prince, and wit the counsellor,
Which doth for common good in councell sit,
And when witte is resolued, will lends her power,
To execute what is devised by witte.
I. Davies.

Will is as free as any Emperour,
Nought can restraine her gentle libertie,
No tyrant nor no torrent hath the power
To make us will when wee unwilling bee.
Idem.

Euen as the will should goodnesse truely know,
We have a will which that true good should choose
Although will oft, when wit false formes doth show,
Take ill for good, and good for ill refuse.
Idem.

It lives not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-ruled by fate.
Ch. Marlow.

A stronger hand restraines our wilfull powers,
A will must rule above this will of ours,
Not following what our vaine desires doe woe,
For vertues sake, but what wee onely doe.
M. Dr.

— Headlesse will true iudgement doth ensnare.
Idem.

Selfe-will doth frowne, when honest zeale reproves,
Idem.

Whereas our actions measure no regard,
Our lawlesse will is made his owne reward.
M. Dra.

— With a world of mischiefes and offence,
Vnbridled will rebelles against the sence.
D. Lodge.

Hee least should list that may doe what he will.
S. Dan.
Wisedome.

Our God himselfe for wisedome most is praysed,
And men to God thereby are nighest raysed.
Ed. Spencer.

Wisedome doth warne, whilst foe is in the gate.
To stay the step, ere forced to retreate.
Idem.

Wisedome must iudge twixt men apt to amend,
And mindes incurable borne to offend.
S. D.

— In daunger wisedome doth aduise,
In humble termes to reconcile our foes.
D. Lodge.

— Wisedome and the sight of heavenly things,
Shines not so cleere as earthly vanities.
G. Chapman.

Tis sayd a wise man all mishaps withstands,
For though by starres wee borne to mischiefes are,
Yet prudence bailes us quite from carefull bands.
M. of M.

Fore-sight doth still on all aduantage lie.
Wise men must give place to necessitie.
M. Dr.

— A wiseman poore
Is like a sacred Booke that's never read,
T'himselfe hee lives, and to all else seemes dead:
This age thinkes better of a gilded foole,
Then of thred bare saint in wisedomes schoole.
Th. Dekkar.

Wise men let faults ore-passe, they cannot mend.
Ch. Middle.

Who can themselues beware by others costs,
May bee accounted well among the wise.
S. I. H.

— Whatsoever Starres seeme to importune,
Wisedome predominates both fate and fortune.
Ch. Fitz Griffon.
Wit.

The witte the pupill of the soules cleere eye,
And in mans world the onely shining starre,
Lookes in the mirror of the phantasie,
Where all the gathering of the sences ate,
From thence this power the shape of things abstract•
And them within her passive part receives,
Which are inlightened by that part which acts,
And so the forme of single things receives:
But after by discoursing to and fro,
Anticipating and comparing things
She doth all universall natures know,
And all effects into their causes bring.
Our witte is given Almightie God to know,
Our will is given to love him being knowne,
But God could not bee knowne to us below,
But by his works, which through the sence are knowne.
I. Davis.

Wit is the mindes cheefe iudge, which doth controle,
Of fancies Court the iudgements false and vaine,
Will, holdes the royall scepter in the soule,
And on the passions of the heart doth raigne.
Idem.

Emulation the proud nurse of witte.
S. D.

— Wit and learning are two Angelles wings,
By which meane men soare up to mightie things.
Ch. Middl.

Wit is with boldnesse prompt, with terror daunted,
And grace is sooner got of dames then graunted.
Ed. Spencer.

Some loose their wit with love, some with ambition
Some running to the sea great wealth to get,
Some following Lords and men of high condition,
Some in fayre iewelles, rich and costly set.
One hath desire to proove a rare magician,
Others with Poetrie their witte forget:
Another thinkes to bee an Alchimist,
Till all hee spent, and hee his number mist.
S. I. H.

Mans wit is monstrous, when the same from vertue doth decline.
W. Warner.

Mans witte doth bvild for time but to devoure,
But Vertue's free from time and fortunes power.
M. Dr.

The wit not hurt, because not used more,
Growes dull and farre lesse toward then before.
— Wits ambition longeth to the best,
For it desires in endlesse blisse to dwell.
I. Davis.

Best loves are lost for wit, when men blame fortune.
G. Chapman.

— Carelesse wit is wanton bewties page.
D. Lodge.

The finest wittes are soonest snarde with love.
Th. Achellye.

A setled braine is worth a world of witte.
Th. Storer.

Wits want makes men desirous to seeme wise.
Woe.

Woe all in blacke within her hands did beare,
The fatall torches of a funerall,
Her cheekes were wet, dispersed was her hayre,
Her voyce was shrill (yet lothsome therewithal)
D. Lodge.

Short time seemes long in sorrowes sharp sustaining,
Though woe bee heavie, yet it seldome sleepes,
And they that watch see time how slow it creepes.
W. Shakespeare.

— Fellowship in woe, doth woe asswage,
As palmers that make short their pilgrimage.
Idem.

Tis double death to drowne in ken of shore,
He ten times pines, that pines behoulding food:
To see the salue doth make the wound ake more,
Great griefes greeve most at that would doe it good,
Deere woes rowle forwarde like a gentle flood:
Who being stopt, the bounden bankes ore flowes,
Greefe dallied with, nor law nor limmit knowes.
Idem.

Distresse likes dumps, when time is kept with teares.
Idem.

For stronger woe we hardly long may wrest,
The depth of griefe with words is sounded least.
M. Dra.

— The Painter
Who thought his colours pale could not declare
The speciall woe King Agamemnon bare,
When sacrificed was his onely rage,
With bend of blacke he bound the fathers face.
Th. Hudson.
Words.

— Words
Windie atturnies of our clyent woes,
Ayery succeeders of intestate ioyes,
Poore breathing Orators of miseries,
Let them have scope, though what it doth impart
Helpe not at all, yet doth it ease the heart.
V V. Sh.

Words are the tennants of an itching toy.
D. Lodge.

Allusion of words is no sure ground,
For one thereon a steddie worke to found.
One word of woe another after traineth.
S Ph. Sydney.

— Few words shall fit the trespasse best,
Where no excuse can give the fault amending.
W. Sh.

Deepe sounds make better noyse then shallow fords,
And sorrow ebbes being blown with wind of words.
W. Sh.

Words are but winde, why cost they then so much,
The giltie kicke when they too smartly to•ch.
Idem.

Forth irreturnable flies the spoken word,
Bee it in scoffe, in earnest, or in bourd,
Without returne and unreceived it hangs,
And at the takers mercie or rigor stands:
Which if hee sowrely wrest, with wrathfull cheare,
The shivering word turnes to the hearers feare:
If friendly courtesie doe the word expound,
To th'speakers comfort quickly it doth redound.
Idem.

Smoothe words dissolue hard stones, faire words inforce
Pittie in flintie hearts.
Ch. Middl.

Through the world if it were sought,
Faire words enow a man should finde,
They bee good cheape, they cost right nought,
Their substance is but onely winde:
But well to say, and so to meane,
That sweete accord is seldome seene.
S. Th. W.

— Words well plac't move things were never thought.
G. Chapman.

Euen as the vapour which the fire repelles,
Turnes not to earth, but in mid-ayre dwelles,
Where while it hangs, if Boreas frostie flawes,
With rigor rattle it: not to raine it thawes,
But thunder, lightning, ratling, hayle, or snow,
Sends downe to earth, whence first it rose below.
But if faire Phebus with his countenance sweete
Resolue it, downe the dew or Manna sleete:
The Manna dew that in the Esterne lands,
Excelles the labour of the Bees small hands,
Else for her Memnon, gray Auroraes teares,
On the earth it stilleth the partner of her feares,
Or sendeth sweet showres to glad their mother earth
Whence first they tooke their first in constant birth.
To those great greefes ill taken words do grow,
Of words well taken such delights do flow.
M. of M.

— Men do foulest when they finest speake.
S. Daniell.

They wash a Moore, they strive to drie the seas,
And plaine proude Atlas, that intend to please
By filthy woords, by rayling, and detraction,
Proper to Momus, and his hatefull faction:
For when they thinke they have deserued most,
Alas sayth wisedome, all the toyle is lost.
D. Lodge.

Few words well coucht, doe most content the wise.
R. Greene.

Rash words flow from an unaduised mind.
Who once hath past the boundes of honestie
In earnest deedes, may passe it well in words.
G. G.

Have care to whom, of whom, and what to speake, though speech be true
That misse made Phoebus contrarie his rauēs swan-like hue.
W. W.

If so the crow would feast him without prate,
More meate hee should receive, lesse brawle and hate
A foole hee is that comes to preach and prate,
When men with swords their right & wrong debate.
— Words well disposed,
Have secret power t'appease inflamed rage.
Ed. Sp.
Women.

— Women bee
Framde with the same parts of the mind as we,
Nay nature triumpht in their beauties birth,
And women made the glorie of the earth:
The life of bewtie, in whose supple breasts,
And in her fairest lodging vertue rests,
Whose towring thoughts attended with remorse,
Do make their fairenesse be of greater force.
I. Weever.

What art so deepe, what science is so hie,
Vnto the which women have not attained,
Who list in stories old to looke, may trie
And find my speech herein nor false nor fained,
And though of late they seeme not to come nie
The praise their sex in former times have gained.
Doubtlesse the fault is either in back-biters,
Or want of skill or iudgement in their writers.
Idem.

Among the many rare and speciall gifts,
That in the female sexe are found to sitte,
This one is chiefe, that they at meerest shifts,
Give best aduise, and shew most readie witte,
But man except hee chewes and thinks, and fifts,,
How everie part may aunswere to their fit,
By rash aduise doth often over-shoote him,
And doth accept the things that doe no•boote him.
Idem.

Those vertues that in women merit prayse,
Are sober showes without, chaste thoughts within,
Truth sayth, and dve obedience to their make,
And of their children honest care to take.
S. I. H.

Let woolues and beasts be cruel in their kind,
But women meeke, and have relenting mindes.
M. Drayton.

Not women, but our wilfulnesse doth work our woe unrest
Though beautie, love, and they beare fault, we may abuse the best.
W. W.

— Men have Marble, women waxen minds
And therefore are they formed as Marble will,
The weake opprest, th'impression of strange kindes,
Is formed in them by force, by fraude, or skill,
Then call not them the Authors of their ill,
No more then waxe shall bee accounted evill,
Wherein is stampt the semblance of the divell.
Their smoothenesse like a goodly champaine plaine,
Laies open all the little wormes that creepe,
In men as in a rough growen grove remaine,
Cave-keeping evilles, that obscurely sleepe,
Through cristall walles each little moule will peepe,
Though men can cover minds with bold stern looks
Pale womens faces are their owne faults Bookes.
No man inueyes against the withered flower,
But chides rough winter that the flower hath kild,
Not that devourd, but that which doth devour,
Is woorthie blame, O let it not be hild,
Poore womens faults, that they are so fulfiled,
With mens abuses those proude lores to blame,
Make weake-made women tenants to their shame.
W. Shakespeare.

Bee not therefore too proude and full of scorne,
O women-kind, that men come of your seede,
The fragrant Rose growes on the pricking thorne,
The Lillie sayre comes of a filthie weede,
In loathsome soyle men sow the wholsome corne,
The basest mould the fairest flower doth breede,
Vngratefull, false, craftie you are, and cruell,
Borne of our burning hell to bee the fuell.
S. I. H.

Base bullion for the stampe sake wee allow,
Euen so for mens impression doe wee you,
By which alone our reverend fathers say,
Women receive perfection everie way.
Ch. Marlow.

Their Vertues mount like billowes to the skies,
And vanish straight out of the gazers eyes,
Hate and disdaine is painted in theyr eyes,
Deceit and treason in their bosome lies.
G. Chapman.

Women were made for this intent, to put us unto paine,
Yet sure I thinke they are a pleasure to the mind,
A ioy which man can never want, as nature hath assigned.
Idem,

Extreamely mad the man I surely deeme,
That weenes with watch and hard restraint to stay
A womans will, which is disposed to goe astray.
Ed. Spencer.

In vaine hee feares that which hee cannot shunne,
For who wots not that womens subtilties
Can gnilen Argus, when shee list misdoone,
It is not iron bands nor hundred eyes,
Nor brazen walles, nor many wakefull spyes,
That can with-hold her wilfull wandring feete,
But fast good will with gentle curtesies,
And timely seruice to her pleasures meeke,
May her perhaps containe that else would algates fleete.
Idem.

Such is the crueltie of women-kind,
When they have shaken off the shame-fac't band,
With which wise nature did them strongly bind,
T'obey the hests of mans wel-ruling hand,
That then all rule and reason they withstand,
To purchase a licencious libertie.
But vertuous women wisely understand,
That they were borne to base humilitie,
Vnlesse the heavens them lift to lawfull soveraintie.
S. Ph. Sydney.

Why? what be women? women, geld the latter sillable,
Then are they nothing more then woe, their names remaine doth tell,
W. W.

Take away weakenesse, and take women too.
S. D.

Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
W. Sh.

They melt with words, as waxe against the sunne,
So weake is many womens modestie,
For what somtimes they most would seeme to sheeld
Another time unaskte poore soules they yeeld.
Ch. Middleton.

— A woman
Loves to be woed of a man, thou knowst well Thirsis, a woman
Runs, and yet so runs, as though she desired to be out-run
Saies no, no, yet so as no no, seems to be no, no,
Strives, & yet so strives, as though she desird to be vanquisht,
Woman's like to a shade, that flies, yet lies by the subiect,
Like to a Bee, that never strives if sting be remooved.
A. Fraunce.

In womens mouthes no is no negative.
I. W.

Their yea, or no, when as they sweare they love or love us most,
Beleeve who list, soone be they got, as sodainely are lost.
W. W.

A womans love is river-like, which stopt will overflow,
And when the current finds no let, it often falles too low.
Idem.

Varietie of men to court a woman is her pride,
Then which the vanity of men is nothing lesse espide
What are to us but common hurts,
Those common hopes they give,
If then their love doth die to us,
When ours to them doth live.
Idem.

— Women never
Love beautie in their sexe, but enuie ever.
G. Chapman.

There cannot bee a greater clogge to man,
Then to be wearie of a wanton woman.
S. I. H.

— What more spight can be a woman told,
Then one should say she looketh foule and old.
Idem.

— Bee shee base or hie,
A womans eye doth guide her wit, & not her wit her eye.
W. W.

Women are most wonne, as when men merit least,
If merit looke not well, love bids stand by,
Loves proper lesson is to please the eye.
G. Ch ▪

He water plowes, and soweth in the sand
And hopes the flickering wind with net to hold,
Who hath his hopes layd on a womans hand.
S. P. S

— Women by kind are mutable ever,
Soone hot, and soone cold, like, and mislike in a moment,
Change as a weather-cocke, and all as light as a fether.
A. Fr.

Women have tongues of craft, and hearts of guile,
They will, they will not, fooles that on them lust,
For in their speech is death, hell in their smile.
Ed. Fairfax.

One woman with another may do much.
Th. Ach.

Like untund golden strings all women are,
Which long time lie untoucht, will harshly iarre.
Ch. Marlow.

Discurteous women natures fairest ill,
The woe of man, that first createst curse,
Base female sexe, sprung from blacke Ates loynes,
Proude, disdainefull, cruell, and uniust,
Whose words are shaded with inchaunting wiles,
Worse then Med•s•, mateth all our mindes,
And in their hearts sits shamelesse trecherie,
Turning a truthlesse vile circumference,
O could my fury paint their furies forth,
For hell, no hell compared to their hearts ▪
Too simple divelles, to conceive their arts:
Borne to be plagues unto the thoughts of men,
Brought for eternall pestilence to the worlde.
R Greene.

with womē is too usual now theirs & thēselues to sel,
For jointures by indēture with imperious mē to dwel
And hee doth her, and she doth him with his and her upbraid,
W. V V.

Women are kind by kind, and coy for fashion.
H. C.
Of Wrath,

— Fierce revenging wrath
Rides on a Lyon, loth for to bee led,
And in his stand a burning brand hee had,
The which hee brandished about his head,
His eyes did hurle foorth sparkles fierie redde,
And stared sterne on all that him beheld,
As ashes pale of hew, and seeming dead,
And on his dagger still his hand hee held,
Trembling through hastie rage when choller in him sweld.
Ed. Spencer.

— Boyling wrath, sterne, cruell, swift, & rash,
That like a boare her teeth doth grinde and gnash,
Whose hayre dooth stare like bristled po•cupine,
Who sometimes rowles her gastly glowing eyene,
And sometimes fixly on the ground doth glaunce,
Now bleake, then bloudy in her countenance,
Raving and rayling with a hideous sound,
Clapping her hands, stamping against the ground,
Bearing Bocconi, fire, and sword, to slay
And murder all that for her pittie pray,
Banning her selfe her selfe to bane her enemie,
Disdaining death, provided others die,
Like falling towres o're-turned by the wind,
That breake themselues on that they undergrinde.
I. Syluester.

Full many mischiefes follow cruell wrath,
As horrid bloud-shed, and tumultuous strife,
Vnmanly murther, and unthriftie scath,
Bitter despight, and rancors rustie knife,
And fretting greefe, the enemie of life,
All these and many evilles more haunt ire,
The swelling spleene, and frenzie raging rife,
The shaking palsie, and Saint Fraunces fire.
Ed. Spencer.

When men with wrath and sudden paines of ire,
Suffer themselues to bee o're-whelmed and drownd,
And hot revenge that burnes l•ke flaming fire,
Moo•es hearts to hurt, or tongs or hands to wound,
Though after to a mend, if they desire,
Yet place of pardon seldome can be found.
S. I. H.

What iron band, or what sharpe hard-mouthed bitte,
What chaine of Diamond (if such might bee)
Can bridle wrathfulnesse, and conquer it,
And keepe him in his bounds and dve degree.
Idem.

— Hastie wrath and heedlesse hazardie,
Doe breede repentance and lasting infamie.
Ed. Spencer.

Poore sillie lambes the Lion never teares,
The feeble Mouse may lie among great Beares,
But wrath of man his rancour to requite,
Forgets all reason, ruth, and mercie quite.
M. of M.

— He is a mad man that doth seeke
Occasion to wrath and cause of strife,
She comes unsought, and shunned followes eke:
Happy, who can abstaine when rancor rife
Kindles revenge and threates his cruell knife:
Woe never wants when every cause is caught,
And rash occa•ion makes unquiet life.
Ed. Spencer.

Be not moody in thy wrath, but pawze ere fist be bent,
Oft Phillips sonne did rashly strike and sodenly repent.
W. Warner.

Achilles when with counterfaited crest,
He saw Patroclus bleeding all the way,
To kill his killer was not satisfied,
Except he hald and tare him all beside.
S. I. H.

If fortune helpe whome thou wouldst hurt,
Fret not at it the more,
When Aiax stormed them from him,
The prize Vlisses bore.
W. Warner.

Rage, wanne and pale upon a Tygre sat
Gnawing upon the bones of mangled men,
Nought can he view but he repines thereat ▪
His locks were snakes bred forth in Stigian den ▪
T. Lodge.
World,

The antique world in his first flowring youth,
Found no defect in his creators grace,
But with glad thanks and unreprooved truth,
The gifts of soveraigne bountie did embrace,
Like angelles life was then mans happie case:
But later ages pride like corne-fed steede,
Abusde her plentie and fatswoln increase,
To all licencious lust, and gan exceede,
The measure of her meane and naturall first seede.
Ed. Spencer.

When arked Noah, and seven with him the emptie worlds remaine,
Had left the instrumētall means of landing thē again
And that both mā beast & all did multiply with store
To Asia Sem, to Affrick Chā, to Europe japheth bore
Their families, thus triple wise the world divided was
W. W.

I take this world to bee but as a stage,
V Vhere net-maskt men do play their personages,
Tis but a murmur and a pleasant shew,
Syth over all strange vanities do flow.
I. Syluester.

The world to the circumference of heaven,
Is as a small poynt in Geometrie,
V Vhose greatnesse is so little that a lesse
Cannot bee made.
Th. Dekkar

The first world blessed was with heavenly favours,
And the last curst with painefull hellish labours.
Ch. Middl.

O vaine worlds glorie, and uncertaine state,
Of all that lives on face of sinfull earth,
Which from their first untill their utmost date,
Taste no one howre of happinesse or mirth,
But like as is the ingate of their birth.
They crying creepe out of their mothers wombe,
So wayling backe, goe to their carefull tombe.
Ed. Spencer.

Ah wretched world, the den of wretchednesse,
Deformd with filth and foule iniquitie,
Ah wretched world, the house of heavinesse,
Fild with the wreakes of mortall miserie,
Oh wretched world and all that is therein,
The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaves to sinne.
Idem.

— O worlds inconstancie,
That which is firme doth flit and fall away,
And that is flitting doth abide and stay.
Idem.

Must not the world wend in his common course,
From good and bad, and then from bad to wourse,
From worst unto that which is worst of all,
And then returne unto his former fall ▪
Who will not suffer the stormie time,
Where will hee live untill the lustie prime?
Idem.

This golden age to yron doth decline,
As summer unto winter must resigne.
D. Lodge.

The first and riper world of men and skill,
Yeelds to our latter time for three inuentions,
Myraculously wee write, wee sayle, wee kill,
As neither auncient scrowle nor storie mentions.
Print. The first hath opened learnings old concealed
And obscurde arts restored to the light:
Loadst. The second hidden countries hath reveald,
And sent Christs Gospel to each living wight.
These we commend, but oh what needeth more,
Guns. To teach death more skill then he had before.
Th. Bastard.

Take moysture from the sea, take colour frō his kind,
Before the world devoyd of change thou finde.
— All that in this world is great or gay,
Doth as a vapour vanish and decay.
Ed. Spencer.

This is the rest the vaine world lendes,
To end in death, that all things ends.
S. Daniell.

All men are willing with the world to hault,
But no man takes delight to know his fault.
D. Lodge.

A die, a drab, and filthie broking Knaves,
Are the worlds wide mouthes, al-devouring graves ▪
I. Marston.

Nothing doth the world so full of mischiefe fill.
But want of feeling one-anothers will.
G. Chapman.

— Not by that which is the world now deemeth,
(As it was woont) but by that same that seemeth.
Ed. Spencer.

There never shall bee any age so cleere,
But in her smoothe face shall some faults appeare.
Th. Middl.

The world must end, for men are so accurst,
Vnlesse God end it sooner, men will first.
Th. Bastard.
Youth.

Youth is a bubble blowen up with a breath,
Whose wit is weaknes, and whose wage is death,
Whose way is wildnes, and whose Inne penance,
And stoope gallant age, the hoast of greevance.
Ed. Spencer.

If crooked age accounteth youth his spring,
The spring the fayrest season of the yeere,
Enricht with flowers, and sweetes, and many a thing
That fayre and glorious to the eye appeares:
It fits that youth the spring of man should bee,
Richt with such flowers as vertue getteth thee.
R. Greene.

For noble youth there is no thing so meete
As learning is, to know the good from ill,
To know the tongues, and perfectly endite,
And of the lawes to have the perfect skill
Things to reforme as right and iustice will:
For honour is ordained for no cause,
But to see right maintained by the lawes.
M. of M.

The youth of Princes have no boundes for sinne,
Vnlesse themselues doe make the bounds within.
S. Daniell.

Most true it is, as vessels of first licours ever taste,
Love seasoned so with sweetnes of youth, the same dooth ever last.
W. Warner.

Like as the vessell ever beares a taste
Of the same ivice wherewith it first was filed,
And as in fruitfull ground the seede growes fast,
That first is sowen after the ground is tilled:
So looke what lore in youthfull yeeres is plast,
By that they grow the worse or better willed,
When as they came to manly age and stature,
Sith education is another nature.
S. I. H.

The tunne retaineth long the taste and sent,
Of that pure licour which at first it hent,
And what impression one in youth retaine,
In age our reason hardly will restraine,
D. Lodge.

— What by vaine example youth conceives,
The same for lawfull daily he receives.
Idem.

Age is deformed, youth unkind,
Wee scorne their bodyes, they our mindes.
Th. Bastard.

The youth are foolish hardy, or lesse hardy thē they ought
Effeminate, fantasticke, in few not few, are nought.
W. Warner.

— Forward sinne in raines of foolish rage,
Leaves heedlesse youth inchaind his captive page.
D. Lodge.

— Youth doth deserue by might,
But old age by good counsell and fore-sight.
Idem.

— Youth may love, and yongmen may admire,
If old age cannot, yet it will desire,
I. Weever.

In grained habits died with often dips
Are not so soone discoloured, yong slippes
New set, are easily moved and pluckt away,
But elder rootes clippe faster in the clay.
I. Murston.

The plow-man first his land doth dresse and turne,
And makes it apt or ere the seede he sow,
Whereby hee is full like to reape the corne,
Where otherwise no seede but weed should grow:
By which example men may easily know,
When youth have wealth before they can well use it,
It is no woonder though they doe abuse it.
M. of M.

Reform the euē to day, unapt to day, least apt to morrow
Youth aptly offers vertues, such as yeares unaptly borrow
V V. V V.

Looke what wee have when youth is most in prime,
That shall wee want in age by course of time.
Th. Churchyard.
The division of the day naturall. Mediae noctis inclinatio.

Night was farre spent, and now in Ocean deepe,
Orion flying fast from hissing snake,
His flaming head did hasten for to steepe.
Ed. Sp.

By this th'eternall lamps wherewith high jove,
Doth light the lower world, were halfe yspent,
And the moyst daughters of huge Atlas strove
Into th'ocean deep to drive their wearie drove.
Idē.

— The gentle humorous night,
Implyes her middle course, and the sharpe east,
Breathes on my spirit with his fierie steedes.
G. Chapman.

The silent night that long had soiourned,
Now gan to cast her sable mantle off,
And now the sleepie waine-man softly drove
His slow-pac't teeme that long had travailed.
Th. Kyd.
Gallicinium.

By this the Northerne Wagoner had set
His seven-fold teeme behind the stedfast starre,
That was in Ocean waves, yet never wet,
But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre,
To all that in the wide deepe wandring are,
And cheereful chauntte cleere with his notes shrill,
Had warned once that Phebus fierie carre,
〈◊〉 haste was climing up to Esterne hill,
Full enuious that the night so long his roome did f•ill
Ed. Spencer.

What time the native Bel-man of the night,
The bird that warned Peter of his fall,
First rings his siluer bel to each sleeping wight,
That should their mindes up to devotion call.
Idem.

The cheerefull cocke, the sad nights trumpeter,
Wayting upon the rising of the sunne,
Doth sing to see how Cynthia shrinks her horne,
Where Clitia takes her progresse to the East,
Where wringing west with drops of siluer dew,
Her wonted teares of love she doth renew,
The wandering swallow with her broken song,
The countrie wench unto her worke awakes,
Whilst Cytherea sighing, walks to seeke,
Her murdered love transformed to a rose,
Whom though she see, to croppe shee kindly feares
But kissing sighes, and dewes him with her teares.
Th. Kyd.

Now ere the purple dawning yet did spring,
The ioyfull Larke began to stretch her wing,
And now the cocke the mornings trumpeter,
Plaid hunts up, for the day-starre to appeare,
Downe slideth Phebe from her cristall chayre,
S'daigning to lend her light unto the ayre.
M. Drayton.
Diliculum.

At last fayre Hesperus in highest skie,
Had spent his lamp, & brought forth dawning light.
Ed. Spencer.

The night growen old, her blacke head waxen gray,
Sure shepheards signe that morn wil soon fetch day.
S. Ph. Sydney.

It was the time when gainst the breaking day,
Rebellious night yet strove and still repined,
For in the east appeares the morning gray,
And yet some lampes in joves high pallace shined.
Ed. Fairfax.

By this Apolloes golden harpe beganne
To send forth musicke to the Ocean,
Which watchfull Hesperos no sooner heard,
But hee the day bright bearing carre prepared,
And ranne before, as harkenger of light,
And with his flaming beames •ockt ugly night.
Ch. Marlow.

— Lycaons sonne,
The hardy plough-swaine unto mightie jove,
Hath traced his siluer furrowes in the heaven,
And turning home his over-watched teeme,
Gives leave unto Apolloes chariot.
R. Greene.

Nights candles are burnt out, and iocond day,
Stands tiptoe on the mistie mountaines top.
V V. Sh.

Loe now the gentle Larke wearie of rest,
From his moyst cabynet mounts up on hie,
And wakes the morning from whose siluer breast,
The sunne ariseth in his maiestie:
Who doth the world so gloriously behold,
That Cedar tops and hilles seemed burnisht gold.
Idem.
Mane ▪

The ioyous day gan earlie to appeare,
And fayre Aurora fro her dewy bed
Of aged Tithon gan her selfe her selfe to reare
With rosie cheekes, for shame as blushing red.
Ed. Spencer.

Now when the rosie-fingred morning fayre,
Wearie of aged Tithons saffron bed,
Had spread her purple robe through dewie ayre,
And the high hilles Titan discovered,
The royall Virgin shooke off drowsie bed.
Idem.

Now sullen night with slow sad pace descended
To ugly hell, when loe the blushing morrow
Lends light to all faire eyes that light will borrow.
W. Sh.

Soone as the morrow saire with purple beames,
Disperst the shadowes of the mistie night,
And Titan playing on the easterne streames,
Gan cleare the dewie ayre with springing light.
Ed. Spencer.

The dewie Rose at morne had with her hayres,
In sundrie sorts the Indian clime adornde,
And now her eyes apparelled in teares,
The losse of lovely Memnon long had mornde.
D. Lodge.

The gaudie morne out of her golden sleepe
Awakte, and little birdes uncagde gan sing,
To welcome home the bride-groome of the sea.
G. Peele.

The gray-eyde morne smiles on the frowning night,
Cheering the easterne cloudes with streams of light,
And darkenesse flected like a drunkard reeles,
From forth dayes path-way made by Titans wheels.
W. Sh.

Now had the morne espide her lovers steedes,
Whereat shee starts, puts on her purple weede,
And red for anger that hee stayd so long,
All headlong throwes her selfe her selfe the cloudes among.
Ch. Marlow.

As soon as morning her shining haires fro the mountains
Had shewen forth & driven all star-light quite fro the heavens.
A. Fraunce.

Faire Aurora betimes by the daies break rose from her husband
Husband, old & cold, & drave back clouds frō Olympas
Making way to the sun, taking her way to the younker,
Brave yonker Cephalus whom faire Aurora desired.
Idem.

Now was the time when as Aurora faire,
Began to shew the world her golden head,
And looke abroade to take the coole fresh ayre,
jealous Tithono lying still in bedde.
S. I. H.

The sable night dislodgd and now beganne,
Auroraes usher with a windie fanne,
Sweetely to shake the woods on everie side,
The whilst his mistresse like a stately bride,
With flowers, with gemmes, and Indian gold doth spangle
Her lovely locks her lovers looks to tangle,
When passing through the aire in mantle blue,
With siluer fringe shee drops the pearlie dew,
With her goes Abram out.
I. Syluester.

The rosie fringed morne with gladsome ray,
Rose to her taske from old Tithonas lap.
Ed. Fairfax.

The night beginnes bee angrie when shee sees
She can distill no sleepe in lovers eyes,
Tossing her selfe her selfe among the cloudes now hath
Sent the red morne as harauld of her wrath,
Whose lover Phebus rising from his bed,
With dewie mantle hath the world or'e-spread,
Shaking his tresses our Neptunes ebbe:
And giving tincture to the spiders webbe,
These fayre nimphs rose, seeing the light did call.
I. Weever.

Aurora bright her cristall gates unbatred,
And bridegroome like stept forth the glorious sunne
Ed. Fairfax.

The dewie tressie morning newly wake,
With golden tinsell scarse had crownd her brow,
Riding in triumph on the Ocean lake,
Embellishing the hony-fringed bowes.
M. Drayton.

The purple morning left her crimsin bed,
And dond her robes of pure vermillion hue,
Her amber locks shee crownd with roses red,
In Edens flowry gardens gathered new.
Ed. Fairfax.
Soles Ortus.

At last the golden Orientall gate
Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre,
And Phoebus fresh as bridegroome to her mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie haire,
And hurles his glistering beames through gloomie ayre.
Ed. Spencer.

The fierie sunne was mounted up on hight,
Vp to the heavenly towres, and shot each where
Out of his golden chariot glistering light:
And faire Aurora with her rosie hayre,
The hatefull darknesse now had put to flight.
Idem.

The golden sunne rose from the siluer wave,
And with his beames enameld everie grene.
Ed. Fairfax.

The snoring snout of restlesse Phlegon blew,
Hot on the Indes, which did the day renew
With scarlet skie.
Th. Hadson.
Meridies.

Hyperion throwing forth his beames full oft,
Into the highest toppe of heaven gan clime,
And the world parting by an equall lot,
Did shed his whirling flames on either side,
As the great Ocean doth himselfe divide.
Ed. Spencer.

When as the sunne towred in heavens head,
Downe from the siluer mountaines of the skie,
Bent his bright chariot on the glassie bed,
Fayre Cristall gilded with his glorious eye,
Fearing some usurpation in his sted,
Or least his love should too long dalliance spie,
Tweene him and Virgo, whose attractive face,
Had newly made him leave the Lions chace,
In that same middayes hower &c.
I· Markham.

— Golden Phoebus now that mounted hie
From fierie wheeles of his fayre chariot,
Hurled his beames so scorching cruell hot,
That living creature mote it not abide.
Ed. Spencer.

In highest way of heaven the sunne did ryde,
Progressing from fayre twins in golden place,
Having no maske of cloudes before his face,
But streaming forth his heate in cheefest pride.
S. Ph. Sydney.
Solis Occasus.

Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe,
His fierie face in billowes of the west,
And his faint Steedes watred in Ocean deepe,
Whilst from their iournall labours they doe rest.
Ed. Spencer.

— Loe the great Automedon of day,
In Isis streame his golden locks doth steepe,
Sad even her dusky mantle doth display,
Light flying fouls the posts of night doe sport them,
And cheerefull looking Phoebe doth comfort them.
D. Lodge.

By this the welked Phoebus gan availe,
His wearie waine and now the frostie night,
Her mantle blacke through heaven gan overhaile,
Ed. Spencer.

Such love as Phoebus from the coloured skie,
Did headlong drive his horses toward the west,
To suffer horned Luna for ro prye,
Amidst the dusky darke.
D. Lodge.

When as the Sun hales towa•ds the westerne slade,
And the tree shadowes three times greater made.
M. Dr.

And now the Sunne was past his middleway,
Leaning more lovely to his lemmons bed,
And the Moones third howre had attacht the day.
I. Markham.

By this the sunne had spred his golden locks
Vpon the pale greene carpet of the sea,
And opened wide the scarlet doore which locks,
The easefull evening from the labouring day,
Now night beganne to leape from yron rocks.
And whippes her rustie waggon through the way.
Idem.

The blushing sunne plucks in his smiling beames,
•aking his steedes to mend their woonted pace,
Till plunging downe into the ocean streames,
There in the froathie waves hee hides his face,
Then raines them in more then his usuall space,
And leaves foule darknesse to possesse the skie,
A time most fit for foulest tragedie.
M.D.

Now the sunne is mounted up on hie,
And pawseth in the midst of all the skie,
His fierie face upon the earth doth beate,
And bakes it with intollerable heate.
I. Authoris.
Vesper.

— Now the golden Hesperus
Was mounted bie in toppe of heavens sheene,
And warned had his brethren ioyous,
To light their blessed lamps in joves eternall house,
Ed. Spencer.

〈◊〉 •his the night from forth the darksome bower
〈◊〉 ••bus, her teemed steedes gan call,
〈…〉 V•sper in his timely howre,
From golden Oeta gan proceede withall.
R. Greene.

About the time when Vesper in the West,
〈…〉 •ing watch, and silent night,
〈…〉 •is twinckling traine,
〈…〉 to possesse the world,
〈1 page duplicate〉
〈1 page duplicate〉
And fantasie to hauzen idle heades,
Vnder the stately Canopie of heaven,
I layd me downe laden with many cares.
G. Peele.

Now the worlds comforter with wearie gate,
His dayes hot taske hath ended in the West ▪
The owle (nights harauld) shreekes, tis verie late,
The sheepe are gone to fold, the birds to nest,
The cole-blacke cloudes that shadow heavens light
Do summon us to parte and bid good night.
W. Sh.
Noctis initium.

Now gan the hunnied vapour shed the ground
With pearlie dew, and th'earths gloomie shade
Did dimme the brightnesse of the welkin round,
That everie beast and bird awarned made,
To shrowde themselues, while sleep their senses did inuade,
Ed. Spencer.

The silent shadowes with their mother vaile,
The bright lampe of heaven from Thetis hid,
Apolloes sister in her starry rayle,
Along her lower Sphere in triumpeled.
D. Lodge.

— Cynthia companion of the night,
With shining brand lighting his eben carre,
Whose axeltree was iet auchact with starres,
And roofe with shining ravens feathers cealed,
Piercing my eye lids as I lie along,
Awaked me through.
G. Peele.

Thus whiles dumb sights their yeelding hearts entā gled
The aire with sparks of living fire was spāgled,
And night deepe drencht in mistie Acheron,
Heaved up her head halfe the world upon,
Breathed darknes forth, darke night is Cupids daie.
Ch. Marlow.

— From deepe of regions underneath
Nights vaile arose and sunnes bright luster chacde.
Ed. Fairfax.

Inuested in her stately vale the night
In her kind armes embraced all the round,
The siluer moone from Sea uprising bright,
Spred frostie pearle upon the canded ground.
Idem.

Now blacke-browde night plast in her chaire of iet,
Sat wrapt in cloudes within her cabinet,
And with her duskie mantle over-spread
The path the sunnie Palfraies usde to tread,
And Cynthia sitting in her Cristall chayre,
In all her pompe did ride along her Sphere,
The honyed dew descended in soft showres,
Drizled in pearle upon the tender flowers.
And Zephire husht, who with a whispering gale,
Seemed to harken to the nightingale,
Which in the thornie brakes with her sweet song,
Vnto the silent night bewrayde her wrong.
M. Dra.
Noctis concubium.

Now was the heavenly vault depriude of light
With sunnes depart, and now the darknes of the night,
Did light those beamy stars which greater lite did dark
Now each thing that injoyd that fierie quickning spark
(Which life is cald) were moud their spirits to repose,
And wanting use of eyes, their eies began to close:
A silence sweete, each where with one consent imbrast,
A musicke sweete, to one in carefull musing plast:
And mother earth now clad in morning weed, did breathe
A dull desire to kisse th'image of our death.
S. Ph. Sydney.

It was the time, when rest soft sliding downe
From heavens height, into mans heavie eyes,
In the forgetfulnesse of sleepe doth drowne
The carefull thoughts of mortall miseries.
Ed. Spencer.

— The sunne alreadie sanke
Beyond our world, and ere I got my boothe,
Each wight with mātle black the night doth scooth,
Saving the glow-worm, which would courteous be,
Of that small light oft watching sleepers see.
The welkin had full niggardly inclosde
In coffer of dimme cloudes his siluer groates,
I cleped starres, each thing to rest disposde,
The caves were full, the mountaines voyde of goates
The birds eyes closde, closed their chirping notes:
As for the nightingale, woods musicke King,
It August was, hee daind not then to sing.
S. Ph. Sydney.

— Now the sable shade
I cleped night had thicke enueloped
The sunne, in vaile of double darknes made
Sleepe eased care, rest brought complaint to bed.
Ed. Fairfax.

Now from the fresh, the soft, and tender bed,
Of her still mother gentle night out-flew
The fleeting balme on hilles and dales shee shed,
With honey drops of pure and precious dew,
And on the verdure of greene forrests spred,
The virgin prime rose, and the violet blew,
And sweete-breath Zephire on his spreading wings
Sleepe, ease, repose, rest, peace, and quiet brings,
The thoughts and troubles of broade waking day,
They softly dip in milde oblivions lake.
Idem.
Intempesta nox.

Now when Aldeboran was mounted hie,
Above the shinie Cassiopeias chaire,
And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lie.
Ed. Spencer.

Midnight was come, when everie vitall thing,
With sweete sound sleepe their wearie limbs did rest,
The beasts were still, the little birds that sing,
Now sweetely slept besides their mothers brest,
The old and all were snrowded in their rest,
The waters calme, the cruell seas did cease,
The woods, the fields, and all things held their peace
The golden starres were whi•ld amidst theyr race,
And on the earth did laugh with twinckling light,
When each thing nestled in his resting place,
Forgat dayes payne with pleasure of the night,
The hare had no the greedie hounds in sight,
The fearefull Deare of death stood not in doubt,
The Partrich dreamd not of the falchens foot,
The ugly beare now minded not the stake,
Nor how the cruell mastiffes doe her teare,
The stagge lay still unroused from the brake,
The foamie bore feared not the hunters speare,
All things were still in desart, bush and breere:
The quiet heart now from their travailes rest,
Soundly they slept in most of all their rest.
M. Sackuile.

— The midnights waking starre,
Sad Cassiopeia with a heavie cheere
Pusht forth her forehead to make knowne from farre,
What time the deadly dole of earth drewe neere.
I. Markham.

With falling mists the darkesome night extended
Her sable wings, and gently over-spread
Heavens gloomie vaile, whence Phoebus lampe was fled,
Dead time of rest to everie mortall wight,
To cheerefull mindes that bringeth wanton sleepe,
With many a phantasie and deluding toy,
And pensive heart it doth delaie and keepe
From tedious companie, that would annoy,
Dull Saturnists that have abiurdall ioy.
Th. Storer.

Now spread the night her spangled canopie,
And summond everie restlesse soule to sleepe,
On beds of tender grasse the beasts doe lie,
The fishes slumbred in the silent deepe,
Vnheard was Serpents hisse and Dragons crie,
Birds left to sing and Philomele to weepe:
Onely that noyse heavens rolling circle kest,
Sung lullaby to bring the world to rest.
Ed. Fairfax.
Noctis initium.

When low the night with mistie mantle spread,
Gan darke the day, and dimme the azure skies,
And Venus in her message Hermes sped
To bloudy Mars, to will him not to rise,
While shee her selfe her selfe approacht in speedie wise,
And Virgo hiding her disdainfull breast,
With Thetis now had layd her downe to rest,
While Scorpio dreading Sagitarius dart,
Whose bow prest bent, in fight the string had slipt ▪
Downe slid into the Ocean floud a part,
The beare that in the irish seas had dipt
Hs grisly feete, with speede from thence he whipt,
For Thetis hasting from the virgins bed,
Pursude the beare that ere she came was fled,
And Phaethon now neere reaching to his race,
With glistering beames gold streaming where they bent ▪
Was prest to enter in his resting place,
Enryhius that in the carte first went,
Had even now attained his iourneyes stent,
And fast declining hid away his head,
Where Titan coucht him in his purple bed,
And now pale Cynthia with her borrowed light,
Beginning to supplie her brothers place,
Was past the noone-sted sixe degrees in sight,
When sparkling starres amidst the heavens face,
With twinckling light shone on the earth apace,
That while they brought about the nights chaire,
The dark had dimd the day ere I was ware.
M. Sac.

Such time as from her mothers tender lap
The night arose, garded with gentle winds,
And with h•r precious dew refresht the sappe,
Of bloome and darke, (whilst that her mantle blinds
The vaile of heaven) and every birde was still,
Save Philomele that did bemone her ill:
When in the West Orion lift aloft
His stately crest, and smilde upon the twins,
And Cynthia seemely bright (whose eye full oft
Had watcht her love) with radiant light begins,
To pierce the vaile of silence with her beames,
Sporting with wanton cleere in Ocean streames.
When little winds in beating of their wings,
Did woe the eyes to leave their constant walke,
And all was husht save Zephirus that sings,
With lovely breathings for the sea nymphs sake,
My wrathfull greefes perplexe my mind so sore,
That forth I walkt, my sorrowes to deplore.
D. Lodge.
Poeticall Descriptions.
Of Theologie.

In chariot framed of celestiall mould,
And simple purenesse of the purest skie,
A more then heavenly nymph I did behold,
Who glauncing on mee with her gracious eye,
So gave mee leave her beautie to espie,
For sure no sence such sight can comprehend,
Except her beames theyr fayre reflection lend
Her beautie with eternitie beganne,
And onely unto God was ever seene,
When Eden was possest with sinfull man,
She came to him, and gladly would have beene,
The long succeedings worlds eternall Queene,
But they refused her (O hainous deede)
And from that garden banisht was that seede,
Since when at sundrie times and sundry wayes,
Atheisme, and blinded ignorance conspire,
How to obscure those holy burning rayes,
And quench that zeale of heart-inflaming fire,
As makes our soules to heavenly things aspire:
But all in vaine, for maugre all their might,
She never lost one sparkle of her light.
Pearles may bee foyld, and gold bee turned to drosse,
The sunne obscured, the moone bee turned to bloud,
The world may sorrow for Astreas losse,
The heavens darkened like a duskie wood,
Wast deserts lie where watrie fountaines stood;
But fayre Theologie (for so shee hight)
Shall never loose one sparkle of her light.
Such one she was, as in his Hebrew song,
The wisest king for fairest creature prooves,
Embracing her the Cedar trees among,
Comparing her to roses and to Doves,
Preferring her before all other loves,
Such one she was, and everie whit as fayre,
Besides these two was never such a payre.
T. Storer.
Astrologie.

Her hand-maides in Amazon-like attire,
Went chaste and modest like Dianaes traine,
One by her gazing lookes seemes to aspire
Beyond the Moone, and in a high disdaine,
To deeme the world and worldly treasures vaine.
She hight Astrologie, on whose bright lawne,
Spheres Astrolabes and skilfull globes are drawn.
Retoricke.

The next, fayre smiling with a pleasing cheeke,
Had power to ravish and inchaunt mens eares,
Hight Rhetorick, whose shadowed vaile showen cleere
With siluer tongues, and over it she weares,
A wimpled scarfe, bedewd with hearers teares,
Whose captive hearts she should detaine long while,
With pleasance of her unaffected stile.
Of Logicke.

The third a quicke-eyde dame of piercing sight,
That reasons worth in equall ballance wayed,
The truth shee loved above all earthly wight,
Yet could not tell her love, but what shee sayd
Was certaine true, and shee a perfect maide,
Her garments short, tuckt up to earth preparde,
And shee calld Logicke without welt or gard.
Th. Storer.
Arith. Musicke. Geometrie.

Next these, whose outward lookes I knew aright,
And had some portion of their endlesse treasure,
Fayre Algebra with fingers richly dight,
Sweete Musicke founder of delightsome pleasure,
Earth-scanning nymph, directresse of all measure.
These humbly did her soveraigne highnes greet,
And meekely layd their garlands at her feete.
From everie one shee pluckt a speciall flower,
And layd each flower upon a severall part,
Then from her one a stemme of wondrous power,
Whose leaves were beames, whose stalke a fiery dart.
And that she layd upon my trembling heart,
These were the buds of art, this plant of blisse,
This gave them life, they yeelded grace to this.
Th. Storer.
Of Battaile.

Two greater kings were never seene before.
Then camped was in Ragan field at morne,
With haughtie hearts enarmed all on ire,
Each souldiour set another so on fire,
Thar scarcely they could keepe them in their bounde
Till pipe or Cymball, or the Trumpet sound,
Denounce the chocke, but with their furious faces,
They threate their foes with fell menaces,
And stroks at hand, two thousand lads forlorne
(To blunt the sword) were downe in battaile borne,
Vpon their flames flew feruently their stones,
That bet theyr bucklers to their brused bones,
The Squadron then steps sternely to the stroke,
With hearts inhumane all the battaile yoakes,
And are supplyde with many mightie bands,
Some counters them, and sternely them withstands,
With foote to foote each other overpries,
Both Medes and Caldes claspe with gastly cryes,
Like Nylus streames that from the rocke do rumble,
〈◊〉 Encelade when he in tombe doth tumble.
Tho. Huds••.
Of a kisse.

Best charge, and bravest retrait in Cupids fight,
A double key which opens to the heart,
Most rich, when most his riches it impart,
Neast of yong ioyes, schoole-master of de•ight,
Teaching the meane at once to take and give,
The friendly stay, where blows both wound & heale
The pettie death where each in other live,
Poore hopes first wealth, hostage of promise weake.
Breakefast of love.
S. Ph. Sydney.
Of People.

People, lesse setled then the sl•ding sand,
•ore mutable then Proteus or the Moone,
T••nd and •e•urnd in turning of a hand,
•••e Eu••pus•b•e flowing every noone:
Thou thousand headed headlesse monster most,
Of sl•ine like Antheus, and as oft new rising,
Who hard as steele, as light as wingd art tost,
Camelion like, each ob•ects colour prising.
I. Syluester.
Disdaine.

A sturdie villaine stirring strife and bold,
As though the highest God defie he would:
In his right hand an iron clubbe hee held,
But hee himselfe was all of golden mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weilde
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld,
D•sdaine he called was, and did disdaine
So to be calde, and who so him did call.
Ed. Spencer.
Of the same.

— Loe a knight unto his socour went
All armed in shining steele, and on his shield,
He bare a yoake in sundrie peeces rent.
And flames of fire all in a yellow field:
So weaponed he was, as if hee ment
To make all that incountred him to yeeld:
A sword and speare hee had, and to the same
A mace, from whence he threw continuall flame,
His mace was storde with everlasting fire,
That ever burned and did never waste,
No other wagon needed one desire
To make good way which way soere he past,
And sure Rinaldoes danger did require,
Quicke remedie, wherefore the knight did haste,
And when hee saw this monster and did vew her,
With his stiffe speare forth with hee overthrew her:
But this same fall did her no whit annoy,
Wherefore to use his speare he now misliketh,
Onely hee will his fierie face imploy,
And with thar same the monster foule hee striketh,
Then shee no longer could her force injoy.
S. I. H.
Of Dearth.

— Dearth the lively forme of death,
Still yawning wide with lothsome stinking breath,
With hollow eyes, with meger cheekes and chinne,
With sharpe leane bones, piercing her sable skinne,
Her emptie bowels may bee plainely spide,
Cleane through the wrinckles of her withered hide,
Shee hath no bellie, but the bellies seate,
Her knees and knuckles swelling very great,
Insatiate Orque, that even at one repaste,
Almost all creatures in the world with waste,
Whose greedie gorge dish after dish doth draw,
Seekes meate in meate, for still her monstrous maw
Voydes in devouring, and sometimes she eates
Her owne deere babes, for lacke of other meates,
Nay more sometimes (O strangest gluttonie,)
Shee eates her selfe her selfe, her selfe her selfe to satisfie,
Lessning her selfe her selfe, her selfe her selfe so to inlarge,
And cruell thus, shee doth our grandfire charge,
And brings beside from Limbo to assist her,
Rage, feeblenesse, and thirst her ruthlesse sister.
I. Siluester.
Of Thirst.

— Cruell thirst came out of Cyren land,
Where shee was fostered on the burning sand,
With hote intracted tongue, and sunken eine,
With stomacke worne, and wrinckled visage keene
With light and meagre, corse, and pailed vaines,
In steede of bloud, that brimstone hot retaines,
Her poysoned mouth blew through that holy towne,
Such hellish aire, that stiffeled up and down.
Th. Had.
Old Woman.

Her eyes were sunk into her head,
Her cheeks were leane and lanke,
Out stood her chin,
Into her mouth her bloudlesse lips they sanke,
Her toothlesse chappes
Disgraste her tongue in telling of a tale,
And sucke she might
A teat for teeth and spoonage too did faile,
Her haire since sixtie yeeres
Not blacke, was now, nor white, or none,
The substance of her wrinckled face
Were onely skinne and bone,
Dimme were her eyes,
Deafe were her eares, ranke smelt, if she could sent,
A palsie made her feeling cease,
Downe tastlesse foode it went.
W. Warner.
Of a Combate.

Sometime they proffer, then they pause a while,
Sometime strike out, like masters of the play,
Now stand upright, now stoope, another while,
Now open lie, now cover all they may.
Now ward then with a slippe the blow beguilde,
Now forward step, now backe a little way,
Now round about, and where the tone gives place,
There still the other presseth in his place.
S. I. H.
Of Albion.

— Faire Albion glorie of the North,
Neptunes best darling held betweene his armes,
Divided from the world, as better worth,
Kept from himselfe, defended from all harmes.
S. Daniell.

This royall throne of Kings, this sceptred yle.
This earth of maiestie, this seate of Mars,
This other Eden, this demi-paradise,
This fortresse bvilt by nature for her selfe her selfe,
Against intestion and the hand of warre,
This happie breede of man, this little world,
This precious stone sette in the siluer sea,
Which serues it in the office of a wall,
Or as a Moate defensive to a house,
Against the enuie of lesse happier lands,
This nurse, this teeming wombe of royall Kings,
Fearde by their breede, and famous by their byrth,
Renowned in their deedes as farre from home,
For charitie, seruice, and true chivalrie,
As is the Sepulchre in stubburne jewrie.
M. Dr.
Of Aegipt.

The fairest flower that glories Affrica,
Whose beautie Phebus dare not dash with showres,
O•er whose climate never hung a cloude,
But smiling Titan lights the Horizon.
R. Greene.
Hierusalem.

Hierusalem is feared on two hilles,
Of height unlike, and turned side to side,
The space betweene a gentle vallie filles,
From mount to mount exspansed faire and wide,
Three sides are sure imbarde with crags and hilles,
The rest is easie •cant to rise espide,
But mightie bulwarks fence that plainer part,
So art helps nature, nature strengthneth art.
The towne is storde of troughs and cestornes made,
To keepe fresh water, but the countrey seemes
Devoyde of grasse, unfit for plowmens trade,
Not fertill, moyst, with rivers, welles, and streames,
There grow few trees, to make the summers shade,
To shield the parched land from scorehing beames,
Save that a wood stands sixe miles from the towne,
With aged Cedars, darke and shadowes browne:
By east among the duskie vallies glide,
The siluer streames of jordanes siler floud,
By west the mid-land sea with bounders tyde,
O• sandie showres, where loppa whilom stood,
By North Samaria stands, and on that side,
The golden Calfe was reard in Bethell wood,
Bethlem by South, where Christ incarnate was,
A pearle in steele, a diamond sette in brasse.
Ed. Fairfax.
Of Deluge.

Heavens Cristall windowes with one hand God opes
Where on the world a thousand seas hee droppes,
With th'other hand hee gripes and wringeth forth,
The spungie globe of the execrable earth,
So straightly prest that it doth strait restore,
All liquid flouds that it had drunke before,
In everie rocke new rivers doe beginne,
And to his aide the snowes came tumbling in.
The Pines and Cedars have but bowes to shew,
The shoares do shrinke, the swelling waters grow.
I. Syluester.
Of a Courtier effeminate.

About his necke a carknet rich hee ware
Of precious stones all sette in gold well tried,
His armes that carst all warlike weapons bare,
In golden bracelets wantonly were tied,
Into his eares two rings conuayed are,
Of golden wire, at which on eirher side,
Two Indian pearles, in making, like two peares
Of passing price, were pendant at his eares,
His locks bedewd with waters of sweete savour,
Stood curled round in order on his head,
He had such wanton womanish behaviour,
As though in Valence he had long beene bred,
So changd in speech, in manners, and in favour,
So from himselfe beyond all reason ledde,
By these inchauntments of this amorous dame,
He was himselfe in nothing but in name.
S. I. H.
Of Eden.

For Adam God chose out an happie seate,
A climate temperate both for cold and heate,
Which daintie Flora paveth sumptuously,
With flowrie Vers inameld tapistrie,
Pomona prancks with fruits, whose taste excelles,
And Zephir filles with muske and amber smelles,
Where God himselfe (as gardiner) treades the allies,
With trees and corne covers the hilles and vallies,
Summons sweet sleep with noyse of hundred brooks,
And sunne-proofe arbors makes in sundrie nookes,
Hee plants, hee proines, he pares, he trimmeth round,
The ever-greene bewties of a fruitfull ground:
Heere, there, the course of th'holy lakes he leades,
With thousand dies he motleth all the meade.
I. Syluester.
Of V Vinds.

— O heavens fresh flames quoth hee,
Earths sweeping broomes, O forrests enmitie,
O you my haraulds, and my harbengers,
My nimble posts, and speedie messengers,
My armes, my sinewes, and my Eagles swift,
That through the ayre my rowling chariot lift.
I. Syluester.
Of a drunken man.

His head growes giddie, and his foote indents,
A mightie fume his troub
•ed braine torments,
His idle prattle from their purpose quite,
Is abrupt, fluttering, all confusde, and light,
His wine stuft stomacke wrung with wind he feeles,
His trembling tent all topsi-turuie wheeles,
At last not able on his legges to stand,
More like a foule swine then a sober man,
Opprest with sleepe hee wallowes on the ground,
His shamelesse snorting trounke so deepely drownd,
In selfe-oblivion, that he did not hide,
Those parts that Caesar covered when hee died.
Idem.
A Palmer.

A sillie man in simple weede forworne,
And soyld with dust of the long dryed way,
His sandales were with toylsome travell torne,
And face all tand with scorching sunnie ray,
As hee had travaild many a summers day,
Through boyling sands of Affrica and Inde,
And in his hand a jacobs staffe to stay
His wearie limbs upon, and eke behind,
His scrip did hang, in which his needmets he did bind
Ed. Spencer.
Of Harpies.

Seven of them came together in a knot,
With womens faces, wanne, with deadly cold,
So hunger-starued, as death it selfe it selfe might not
Be at first sight more hidious to behold:
Their wings were great, but foule black wings god wot,
Theyr tallents sharp to gripe, and strong to hold,
A large foule panch, a filthy tayle and long,
From whence there came a mighty odour strong.
S. I. Harr.
Of Cyprus.

— With filled sayles, in little while,
They came as farre as Cyprus, Venus Ile:
Heere every place was full of odours sweet,
Of gardens fayre, of spyce of pleasant tast,
The people lustfull, (for dame Venus meete)
From tender yeeres to doating age doe last,
With wanton damsels walking in each street,
Inuiting men to pleasure and repast.
S. I. Harr.
Of the Rainebow.

Noah lookes up, and in the ayre he viewes
A semicircle of an hundred hewes;
which bright ascending toward th'aetheriall thrones,
Hath a line drawne betweene two Horizons
For iust Diameter: an even bent bow
Contrived of three: whereof the one doth show
To be all painted of a golden hew;
The second greene, the third an orient blew:
Yet so, that in this pure blew-golden greene,
Still (ô pall-like) some changeable is seene;
A bow bright shining in th'archers hand,
Whose subtile string seemes levell with the land,
Halfe parting heaven, and over us it bends,
within two seas wetting his horned ends;
A temporall beautie of the lampfull skyes,
where powerfull Nature shewes her fresh-red dies.
And if you onely blew and red perceave,
The same as signes of sea and fire conceave,
Of both the flowing and the flaming doome,
The iudgement past, and iudgement yet to come.
I. Siluester.
Of Paradice,

Soone after he a christall streame espying,
From foote to head he washt himselfe therein,
Then up he gets him on his courser flying,
And of the ayre he more and more doth win:
Ascending heaven, all earthly thoughts defying.
As fishes cut the liquid streame with fin,
So cutteth he the ayre and doth not stop
Till he was come unto the mountaine top.
This hill nie toucht the circle of the Moone,
The top was all a fruitefull pleasant fielde,
And light at night, as ours is heere at noone,
The sweetest place that ever man beheld,
(There would I dwell if God gave me my boone)
The soyle thereof most fragrant flowers doth yeeld,
Like Rubies, gold, Saphire, pearles, Topaze stones,
Chrisolites, Diamonds, jacinths for the nonce.
The trees that there did grow, were ever greene,
The fruite that thereon grew were never fading,
The sundry coloured birds did sit betweene
(Singing most sweet) the fruitfull boughes thē shading,
Rivers more cleere then Christall to be seene,
The fragrant smell, the sence and soule inuading;
With ayre so temperate and so delightsome,
As all the place beside was cleere and lightsome.
Of Diana,

The first with cloths tuckt up as Nimphs in woods doe range,
Tuckt up euē to the knees, with bowes & arrowes prest
Her right arme naked was, discovered was her brest:
But heavy was her pace, & such a megre cheere,
As little hunting mind (God knows) did there appeere.
S. Phil. Sidney.

— Now great Phoebe in her tryumph came,
With all the titles of her glorious name,
Diana, Delia, Luna, Cynthia,
Virago, Hecate, and Elythia,
Prothyria, Dictinna, Proserpine,
Latona, and Lucina most divine.
M. Drayton.
Cynthia.

The siluer Moone, dread soveraigne of the deepe
That with the floods fills up her horned head,
And by her waine, the waining ebs doth keepe.
jar. Markham.

— With a brase of siluer hindes,
〈◊〉 juorie Chariot swifter then the windes,
〈◊〉 great Hyperions horned daughter drawne,
•nchauntresse like, deckt in disparent Lawne.
Circled with charmes and incantations,
That ride huge spirits and ouragious passions;
Musicke and moode she loves, but love she hates,
As curious Ladies doe their publique cates.
G. Chapman.

Natures bright eye-sight, and the nights faire soule,
That with thy triple forhead doost controule
Earth, seas, and hell, and art in dignitie
The greatest and swiftest Planet in the skie.
Idem.
Venus.

— Mounting in the East
Faire Venus in her juorie coach did hast,
And towards those pensive Dames her course addrest
Her Doves so plied theyr waving wings with flight,
That straight the sacred Goddesse came in sight.
Vpon her head she bare that gorgious crowne
wherein the poore Amintas is a starre,
Her lovely locks her bosome hanging downe,
Those nets that first insnard the God of warre:
Delicious-lovely shine her lovely eyes,
And on her cheekes Carnation clowdes arise.
D. Lodge.
Of Venus,

This goddesse had with art (more thē our womē kno•
As stuffe meant for the sale, set out to glaring show)
A wanton womans face, & with curld knots had twin•
Her haire, which by the help of painters cunning shin'•
S. Phil. Sidney.
Of Cupid.

Amongst this gamesome crue is seene,
The issue of the Cyprian Queene,
Whose head and shoulders fethered beene;
And as the starres his countenaunce sheene.
In his left hand his bow he bare,
And by his side his quiver ware,
In power he sits past all compare,
And with his flames the world doth dare;
A scepter in his hand he held,
With Chloris native flowers untild,
And Nectars deathlesse odours stild
From his bright locks the Sun digild.
The triple Graces there assist,
Sustaining with theyr brests commist
And knees that Thetis bosome kist
The challice of this Amorist.
G. Chapman transl.

— Him the greatest of the Gods we deeme,
Borne without sinne or couples of one kind,
For V •nus selfe doth solie couples seeme,
Both male and female through commixture joind,
So pure and spotlesse Cupid forth she brought,
And in the gardens of Adonis nurst:
Where growing, he his owne perfection wrought,
And shortly was of all the Gods the first.
Then got he bow and shafts of gold and lead,
In which so fell and pvissant he grew,
That jove himselfe his power began to dread,
And taking up to heaven, him godded new.
From thence he shoots his arrowes every where
Into the world at random as he will,
On us frayle men.
S. Daniell.
Venus.

— Now in ire,
Shee mounts her chariot swifter then the winde
Or subtill comprehension of the minde,
which by two nimble Cock-sparrowes was drawne
Caparisond but lightly with the lawne
Tooke from the Flowre-deluces inner skin,
Trapt and imbost with Marigolds: within
Sits Venus naked, holding in her hand
A tumbling shelfish with a Mirtle wand;
Wearing a garland on her wimpled head,
Compacted of the white Rose, and the red.
None but the blinde boy Cupid durst approch
For to be whurried with her in her Coach,
The snow-white Graces running by theyr sides,
Were through the heavens theyr wagoners & guides,
Lashing the Sparrowes under quivering wings,
With whyps of twisted gold, and siluer strings,
A beavie of white Doves still fluttring over,
From the sunnes sight such beautie seemed to cover;
And thus shee rode in tryumph in her throne,
Whose radiant lustre like the sunne-beames shone.
I. Weever.
Calme weather.

As then no winde at all there blew,
No swelling clowde accloyd the ayre,
The skye like grasse of watched hue
Reflected Phaebus golden haire:
The garnisht trees no pendant stird,
Nor voyce was heard of any bird.
Mat. Roydon.

The King of windes calls home his posts againe,
And Amphitrite smooth's her watry plaine,
The ayre his clowdes hath changed to christall cleere,
And now the lamps of light from heaven appeare.
J. Syluester.
Of Tempests.

On Neptune war was made by Aeolus and his traine,
who letting loose the winds, tost & tormented the ayre,
So that on every coast, men shipwracke did abide,
Or els were swallowed up in open sea with waves,
And such as came to shore, were beaten with dispayre.
Edm. Spen.

— Within a little season,
The winde discovered his deceite and treason,
First from the poope, it changed to the side,
Then to the prore, at last it whirled round,
Long in a place it never would abide,
which doth the Pilots wit and skill confound;
The surging waves swell still in higher pride,
Proteus white flocke, did more and more abound,
And seemed to them as many deaths to threaten,
As the shyps sides with divers waves are beaten,
Now in theyr face the winde, straight on theyr back,
And forward this, and backward that it blowes,
Then on the side it makes the shyp to crack,
Among the Marriners confusion growes,
The Maister doubts rvine and present wrack,
For none his will, nor none his meaning knowes.
To whistle, becken, cry, it nought availes,
Sometime to strike, sometime to turne theyr sailes,
But none there was could heare, nor see, nor marke:
Theyr eares so stopt, so dazeled were theyr eyes,
with weather so tempestuous, and so darke,
And black thick clowdes, that with the storme did rise,
From whence sometimes great ghastly flames did spark•
And thunder claps that seemed to rent the skies;
Which made them in a manner deafe and blind,
That no man understoode the Maisters minde:
Nor lesse, nor much lesse fearefull is the sound
The cruell tempest in the tackle makes,
Yet each one for himselfe some busines found,
And so some speciall office him betakes:
One this untide, another this fast bound,
He the maine bowling now restraines, now slakes,
Some take an oare, some at the pumpe take paine,
And powre the sea, into the Sea againe.
Behold a horrible and hideous blast,
That Boreas from his frozen lips doth send,
Doth backward force the saile against the mast,
And makes the waves unto the skies ascend,
Then brake theyr oares and rudder eke at last,
Nothing was left from tempest to defend.
So that the ship as swaied now quite a-side,
Vnto the waves laid ope her naked side,
Then all a-side the staggering ship did reele,
For one side quite beneath the water lay,
And on the tother side the very keele,
Above the water plaine discerne you may;
Then thought they all hope past, & down they kneele,
And unto God to take their soules they pray;
Worse danger grew then this, when this was past,
By meanes the ship gan after leake so fast,
The winde, the waves to them no respite gave,
But ready every houre to over-throw them;
Oft they were hoist so high upon the wave,
They thought the middle region was below them:
Oft-times so low the sand their vessell drave,
As though that Charon there his boat wold show them.
Scant had they time, or power to fetch their breath,
All things did threaten them so present death.
S. I. Harr.

— An hoast of blacke and sable clouds
Gan to ecclipse Lucinaes siluer face,
And with a hurling noyse from forth the South,
A gust of winde did raise the billowes up,
Then scantled we our sailes with speedy hands,
And tooke our drablers from our bonners straine,
And severed our bonnets from our courses:
Our top sailes up we trusse, our sprite sailes in,
But vainely strive they that resist the heavens,
For loe the waves incense then more and more,
Mounting with hideous rorings from the depth;
Our Barke is battered by encountring stormes,
And welnie steemd by breaking of the clouds:
The steeres-man pale, and carefull holds the helme,
Wherein the trust of life and safety lay,
Till all at once, a mortall tale to tell,
Our sailes were split by Bisas bitter blast;
Our middle broke, and we bereft of hope;
There might you see with pale and ghastly lookes,
The dead in thought, and dolefull Marchant lifts
Their eyes and hands unto their Country Gods,
The goods we cast in bowels of the Sea,
A sacrifice to swage proud Neptunes ire.
D. Lodge.

Now Nerrus foames, and now the wrathfull wave,
Tost and turmoild by angry Neptunes slaves,
Doe mount and rowle, gainst Thetis heaven doth fight,
And she (inraged) usurpt on Rheas right,
An ayre, black, sable, sad, ore-spread the skies,
And reaves all light from wofull Saylers eyes:
Or if some beames breake through their pitchy night,
This naught, but lighning flashes full of fright.
I. Syluester.

The Easterne winds drives on the roring traine
Of white blew billowes, and the clouds againe
With fresh seas crosse the seas, and she doth send
In counter-change a raine with salty blend
The heavens, doe seeme in Thetis lap to fall,
The Sea-starre, skies, and God to arme this all:
Against one ship that skips from starres to ground,
From wave to wave (like windy ballances bound)
The whilst the Pylot on a foamy mount,
Thinks from the pole to see hells pit profound;
And then cast downe unto the sandy shore,
Seemes from low hell to see the lofty pole,
And feeling foes within and eke without,
As many waves so many deaths doth doubt:
The Sea sharp-surging round about the ship,
Vncaulks their keele, and doth her seames umip,
Whereby the waters entring uncontrold,
Ebbing abroad, yet flow a-pace in hold,
For every •un the plied pump doth free,
A flood breakes in, the amazed maister hee,
His cunning conquered by the perils plaines,
Doubts what to say, or where to turne his raines,
Which wave to meete, or which salt surge to flie,
So yeelds his charge in sea to live or die.
Strike saile the Maister cries, strike saile amaine,
Vaile misme, and sprite saile, but the winds constraine
With boistrous blasts that beate upon his face,
His sea-shapt speech to fly before their chace:
Of men dismayed, the sad confused cries,
Wroath Neptunes noyse, and bellowing winds likewise;
Heavens thunder-claps, the tacklings whistling,
(Strange Minstrells) doe dire dreadfull descant sing.
josuah Syluester.

The day with cloud was suddaine over-cast,
And angry Jove an hideous storme of raine,
Did poure into his Lemmons lap so fast,
That every wight to shroud it did constraine.
Ed. Spencer.

The ayre doth on the suddaine grow obscure,
Lightened sometimes with lightnings dreadfull light,
And save their houre-glasse, kept the reckning sure,
Twas hard for to discerne the day from night;
The desperate Marriners doe all indure
As men inured to the waters spight;
The heavens above, the waves beneath us roare,
Yet are they not dismaied one whit therefore;
One with a whistle, hanged about his necke,
Shewes by the sound which cord must be undone,
And straite the ship-boy ready at a becke,
Vnto the tops with nimble sleight doth runne:
The other Marriners upon the decke;
Or at the steere the comming waves doe shunne,
And then by turnes they pump the water out,
By paine and care preventing every doubt.
S. I. Harrington,

The heavens on every side inclosed be,
Black stormes and foggs are blowen up from farre,
That now the Pilot can no Load-starre see,
But skies and Seas doe make most dreadfull warre:
The billowes striving to the heavens to reach,
And th'heavens striving them for to impeach.
R. Greene.
Of the Spring

The soote seasons that blood, & bloome foorth brings,
With greene hath clad the hill and eke the vale;
The Nightingale with feathers new she sings,
The Turtle to her mate hath told her tale:
Sommer is come, for every spray now springs;
The Hart hath hung his old head on the pale:
The Bucke in brake his Winter-coate he flings:
The Fishes fleete with new-repared scale:
The Adder all her sloth away she flings:
The swift Swallow pursueth the flies small:
The busie Bee her honey now she mings:
Winter is worne that was the flowers bale.
E. of Surrey.

The Winters wrath begins to quell,
And pleasant Spring appeareth;
The grasse now gins to be refresht,
The Swallow peepes out of her nest,
And cloudy welkin cleareth.
E. Spenser.

Flora now calleth for each flower,
And bid's make ready Maias bower,
That new is up rise from bed.
Idem.

The earth late choakt with showres,
Is now araied in greene,
Her bosome springs with flowers,
The ayre dissolues her teene;
The woods are deckt with leaves,
And trees are cloathed gay,
And Flora crowned with sheaves,
With oaken boughs doth play,
The birds upon the trees
Doe sing with pleasant voyces,
And chaunt in their degrees,
Their loves and luckie choyces.
D. Lodge.

The tenth of March when Aries receaved,
Dan-Phoebus rayes into his horned head.
In flowry season of the yeare,
And when the firmament was cleare,
When Tellus her balls painted were,
With issue of disparent cheere;
When the Vsher to the morne did rise,
Sleepe gave their vituall liberties
To Phillis and to Floraes eyes.
G. Chapman.

The ayre was calme, the day was cleare,
Loves wanton winds with wooing breathe,
Gan greete the sweetest of the yeare,
The flower forgot his Winters death;
The earth reviued by the sunne,
To let in gay attire begunne.
The leafe allied unto the tree,
By helpe of spring in coate of greene,
Stole forth my wandring eye to see,
The beauties of the Sommers Queene.
D. Lodge.

The Winter with his grisly stormes no longer dare abide,
The pleasant grasse with lusty greene the earth hath newly died,
The trees hath leaves, the boughs do spred, new changed is the yeare
The water brooks are clean sunk down, the plesant boughs appeare,
The Spring is come, the goodly Nimphs now dance in every place:
Thus hath the yeare most pleasantly of lately changed her face.
E. of Surrey.

Now each creature ioyes the other,
Passing happy dayes and howers,
One bird reports unto an other,
In the fall of siluer showers:
whilst the earth our common mother,
Hath her bosome deckt with flowers.
Whilst the nearest torch of heaven,
with bright rayes warmes Eloraes lap,
Making nights and dayes both even.
Chearing plants with freshnes sap.
S. Daniell.
Of Winter.

The wrathfull Winter proching on a pace,
with blustring blasts had all ybard the treene,
And old Saturnus with his frosty face,
with chilling cold had pearst the tender greene;
The mantles rent wherein inwrapped beene;
The gladsome Groves that now lay over-throwne,
The Tapers torne, and every tree downe blowne;
The soyle that erst so seemely was to seeme,
was all dispoiled of her beauties hewe,
And stole fresh flowers (wher-with the somers Queene
Had clad the earth) now Boreas blast downe blew,
And small fowles flocking in their songs did rew
The winters wrath, where-with each thing defast,
In wofull wise bewayled the Sommer past:
Hawthorne had lost his motly liverie:
The naked twigs were shivering all for cold,
And dropping downe the teares aboundantlie;
Each thing (me thought) with weeping eye me told,
The cruell season, bidding me with-hold
My selfe My selfe within, for I was gotten out
Into the fields, whereas I walkt about.
M. Sackuille.

— When ye count ye free from feare,
Comes the breame Winter with chamfered browes,
Full of wrinkles and frosty furrowes,
Shooting his grisly dart,
Which cruddles the blood and pricks the hart.
Ed. Spenser.
januarie.

— Now sad Winter welked hath the day,
And Phoebus weary of his yearely taske,
Yshackled hath his steeds in lowly lay,
And taken up his Inne in fishes haske.
Idem.
Autumnus.

The wearied nights approached on a pace,
With darksome shades which somwhat breedeth care,
The sunne hath take more neere the earth his race.
In Libra then his greatest sway he bare,
For pardy then the dayes more colder are,
Then fades the greene fruite, lively hearbs are done,
And Winter gins to wast that Sommer wone.
I. H. Mir. of Mag.
Sommer. julie.

Now the sunne hath reared up
his siluer footed teame,
Making his wayte betweene the cup
and golden Diademe.
The rampant Lyon hunts he fast,
with doggs of noysome breath,
Whose balefull barking brings in hast,
pine, plague, and drery death.
Edm. Spencer.
August.

That time of yeere when the inamoured sunne,
Clad in the richest roabes of living fires,
Courted the Virgin signe, great Natures Nunne,
•uhich barraines earth, of all that earth desires:
•uen in the month that from Augustus wone
His sacred name, which unto heaven aspi•es,
And on the last of his tentrebled dayes
W. Shakespeare.

•t was the month in which the righteous mayde,
That for disdaine of sinfull worlds upbraid,
•ed backe to heaven where she was first conceived
•nto her siluer bower the sunne received,
And the hote Syrian dog on him awayting
After the chafed Lyons cruell bayting,
•orrupted had the ayre with noysome breath,
And powrd on earth, plague, pestilence & dearth.
Rob. Greene.

•ow was the month that old Sextilis name
•hangd by the Romaine Senates sage degree,
And glorying so to innovate the same,
•o have himselfe new christned did agree,
•oude that Augustus God-father should be,
〈◊〉 whilst Ceres clad him in a mantle fayre
Of bearded Corne, still quavering with the ayre.
Char. Fitz jeffrey.
julie.

What time sleepes Nurse the silent night begun
To steale by minutes on the long-lived dayes,
The furious dog-starre chasing of the sunne,
Whose scorching breath adds flames unto his raies,
At whose approch the angry Lyon braies,
The earth now warmed in her celestiall fire,
To coole her heate, puts off her rich attire.
M. Drayton.
Of Morpheus.

Morpheus the livelie sonne of deadly sleepe,
Witnes of life to them that living die,
A prophet oft, and oft an historie;
A Poet eke, as humors flie or creepe.
S. Phil. Sid.

Hee making speedy way through persed ayre,
And through the world of waters wide and deepe,
To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire,
Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,
And lowe where dawning day doth never peepe
His dwelling is; there Thetis her wet bed
Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe
In siluer dew her ever-dropping head,
while sad night over him her mantle black doth spread
Edm. Spencer.

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,
The one faire framed of burnished juorie,
The other, all with siluer over-cast,
And wakefull dogs before them fa•re doe lie.
Watching to banish Care, theyr enemie,
who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.
Idem.
Of Neptune.

First came great Neptune with his three-forkt mace,
That rules the seas, and makes them rise or fall;
His dewey locks did drop with brine a pace
Vnder his diademe imperiall,
And by his side his Queene with Coronall,
Fayre Amphitrite, most divinely fayre,
whose juory shoulders were covered all
As with a robe, with her owne siluer hayre,
And deckt with pearles, which the Indian seas for her prepare.
Edm. Spencer.
Of Proteus.

Proteus is shepheard of the Seas of yore,
And hath the charge of Neptunes mightie heard
An aged Sire, with head all frothy hoare,
And sprinckled frost upon his dewie beard.
Idem.
Of Thetis.

Thetis the Mother of the pleasant springs,
Grandome of all the Rivers in the world,
To whome earths vaines a moystning tribute brings,
Nowe with a mad disturbed passion hurled
About her Cave (the worlds great treasure) flings,
And with wreathed armes, & long wet haire uncu•led,
Within herselfe laments a losse unlost,
And mones her wrongs, before her ioyes be crost.
I. Markham.
Of Phoebus.

The golden ofspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great joves progenie,
Phoebus.
Edm. Spencer.

— Dayes King, God of undaunted verse.
G. Chapman.
Of Neptune.

O Neptune, never like thy selfe thy selfe in shew,
Inconstant, variable, mutable,
How doost thou Proteus like thy forme renewe,
O whereto is thy change impurable?
Or whereunto art thou bent sutable?
Rightly the Moone predominateth thee,
For thou art all as changeable as shee.
Ch. Fitz jeffray.
Of Apollo.

Sacred Apollo, God of Archerie,
Of Arts, of pleasure, and of Poetrie,
joves faire haird sonne, whose yellow tresses shine,
Like curled flames; hurling a most divine
And dazeling splendour, in those lesser fires
Which from thy guilt beames (when thy Car retires,)
Kindle those Tapers that lend eyes to night,
O thou that art the Land-lord of all light,
Birdegroome of morning, dayes eternall King,
To whom nine Muses (in a sacred ring)
In daunces sphericall trip hand in hand,
Whilst thy seaven-stringed Lute theyr feete cōmaund,
whose motion such proportioned measure beares,
That to the musicke daunce nine heavenly spheares.
Great Delian Priest, we to adore thy name,
Have burnt fat thighes of Bulls in hallowed flame,
whose savour wrapt in smoake and clowdes of fire
To thy starre-spangled Pallace did aspire.
Tho. Dekkar.
Of Rome.

O thou worlds Queene, ô towne that didst extend
Thy conquering armes beyond the Ocean,
And througdst thy conquests from the Libian shore,
Downe to the Scythian swift-foote fearelesse porters,
Thou art debasd, and at this instant yeelds
Thy proude necke to a miserable yoke.
Tho. Kyd.
Of Heate.

When Phoebus rose he left his golden weede,
And dond attire in deepest pulple dyed,
His sanguine beames about his forhead spred,
A sad presage of ill that should betide,
•ith vermile drops at even his tresses bleed
•or shewes of future heate from th'Ocean wide.
•hilst thus he bent gainst earth his scorching raies,
He burnt the flowers, and burnt his Clitia deare,
The leaves grew wan upon the withered spraies,
The grasse and growing hearbes all parched were.
Earth cleft in rifts, in floods theyr streames decaies,
The barren clowdes with lightning bright appeare,
And mankind feard least Clymens child againe
Had driven away his Syers ill-guided waine.
As from a fornace flew the smoake to skies,
Such smoake as that when damned Sodome brent:
Within his Cave sweete Zephyre silent lyes,
Still was the ayre, the racke nor came nor went,
But ore the lands with luke-warme breathing flies
The Southerne winde, from sun-bright Affrique sent,
with thicke and warme, his interrupted blasts,
Vpon theyr bosoms, throates, and faces casts.
Nor yet more comfort brought the gloomy night,
In her thicke shade was burning heate uprold,
Her sable mantle was imbrodered bright
with blazing starres and gliding fires of gold.
Nor to refresh sad earth thy thirsty spirit,
The niggard Moone let fall her May-dewes cold,
And dried up the vitall moisture was
In trees, in plants, in hearbs, in flowers, in grasse.
Ed. Fairefax.
Of Thirst.

When wells grew dry, the Commons ran in rage
And sought out every sincke, their thirst t'asswage:
And dranke with lothsome draught the pooles in has•
To quench theyr thirst with ill-contented tast,
which poysoned ayre infect theyr purest breath,
whereby the drinker dranke his present death:
O wretched folke, who felt so hard a strife,
Drinke or not drinke, both waies must lose theyr life,
For he that dranke, and he that did refraine,
Had of theyr enemies both an equall paine:
For why? the water vile slew them throughout
No lesse, then did theyr enemies them about.
That wretched towne had never a street nor vew
But Parcaes there had framed some fashions new
To murder men, or martyr them with feares,
As moved the most indurate hart to teares,
If so much water in theyr braines had beene
As might forbeare a drop to wet theyr eyne.
One while he spake his hart (for thirst) did faint:
And life him left, which frustrate his complaint.
The souldiour brave, (oh hart-breake for to tell)
His proper urine dranke, thirst to expell:
The woful mother with her spettle fed
Her little child halfe dead in cradle-bed:
The Lady with her Lord at poynt of death,
Embracing falls, and yeelds theyr latest breath.
Thom. Hudson.
Of an Assault.

— They no lesse provided are within
With rampires, bulwarks, and with doubled dikes:
And where theyr foes to clime doe once begin,
They push thē down with bills, with staves, with pikes.
If one be kild, another steppeth in,
No man his place for feare of hurt mislikes,
Some throw downe blocks, some stones, some scalding water,
Greeving them much with all, most with the latter,
Some throw among them newly slaked Lime,
That burneth most, when most it seemes to quench,
with pots of Brimstone, Pitch and Turpentime,
Annoying them with heate, with smoake, & stench.
The rest are still imployd, and loose no time
with wreathed stakes to fortifie the Trench:
Thus all within are busie, all without,
Fortune on both sides standing still in doubt.
S. I. Harr.
Of an Hoast.

Their hoast with arrowes, pykes, and standards stood
As bristle-poynted as a thornie wood,
Theyr multitude of men the rivers died,
which through the wealthy juda swift did slide,
So that flood jordan finding dry his banke,
For shame he blusht, and downe his head he shrank,
For woe that he his credite could not keepe,
To pay one wave for tribute to the deepe.
Tho. Hudson.
Of a Skirmish,

Then grew the fight on both sides firme and stable,
Both sides defend, both sides alike inuade;
They cast on both sides dartes innumerable
Making therewith a darke unpleasing shade,
An endlesse worke it were to write the rable
The Christians kild with bow, with bill, with blade.
Sometime the sway goeth hether, somtime thether,
Like waters driven with doubtfull tydes and wether:
When one is slaine, his roome another fills,
When one is hurt, another takes his place,
And he that now an other smites and kills,
Falls dead him selfe him selfe within a little space,
Great heapes of bodies dead make little hills:
The earth it selfe it selfe lookes with a bloody face;
The greene where-with it erst was stored,
Turneth to sanguine and vermillion red.
S. I. Harrington.
Of Discontent.

Disquiet thoughts the minutes of her watch,
Forth from her Cave the fiend full oft doth flie,
To Kings she goes, and troubles them with warres,
Setting those high aspiring bonds on fire;
That flame from earth unto the seate of jove:
To such as Midas, men that dote on wealth,
And rent the bowels of the middle earth
For coine; who gape as did faire Danae
For showres of gold: there discontent in blacke,
Throwes forth the violls of her restlesse cares,
To such as sit at Paphos for releefe:
And offer Venus many solemne vowes,
To such as Hymen in his saffron robe,
Hath knit a gordian knot of passions,
To these, to all, parting the gloomy ayre,
Blacke discontent doth make her bad repaire.
R. Greene.

Obscure and darke is all the gloomy aire,
The curtaine of the night is over-spread;
The silent mistresse of the lowry spheare,
Put on her sable coloured vale and lower,
Nor starre, nor milk-white circle of the skie,
Appeares where Discontent doth hold her lodge,
She sits shrined in a canapy of clouds,
whose massie darknes mazeth every sence,
wan is her lookes, her cheekes of azure hue,
Her haire as Gorgons foule retorting snakes;
Enuie the glasse, wherein the hag doth gaze,
Restlesse the clocke that chimes her fast a sleepe.
Of Adams feare after his Transgression.

At this sad summons, wofull man resembles,
A bearded rush that in a river trembles,
His rosie cheekes are changed to earthen hue,
His dying body drops an icie dewe;
His teare-drown'd-eyes a night of clouds bedims,
About his eares a burning horror swims,
His fainting knees with feeblenes are humble,
His faultring feete doe slide away and stumble;
He hath not now his free, bold, stately port,
But downward lookes in fearefull slavish sort;
Now naught of Adam doth in Adam rest,
He feeles his sences pained, his soule opprest,
A confused hoast of violent passions iarre,
His flesh and spirit are in continuall warre.
And now no more through conscience of his error:
He heares or sees, th'almighty but with terror,
And loth he aunsweres (as with tongue distraught)
Confessing (thus) his feare, but not his fault.
I Syluester.
Of the Vacation.

— At such times when Lawyers walk the streetes
Without long rowles of papers in their hands,
When friendly neighbour with his neighbour meetes,
Without false challenge to each others lands,
The Counsellour without his Clyent stands:
When that large Capitall lies void and wast
Where Senatours and judges late were plast.
Th. Storer.
Ceremonie.

All sodainly a light of twenty hewes
Brake through the roofe, and like rainebow viewes
Amazed Leander; in whose beames came downe
The Goddesse Ceremonie, with a crowne
Of all the starres, and heaven with her descended
Her flaming haire to her bright feete extended,
By which, hung all the bench of deities;
And in a chaine compact of eares and eyes,
She led Religion; all her body was
Cleare and transparent as the purest glasse,
For she was all presented to the sence,
Devotion, order, state, and reverence
Her shadowes were, society, memorie;
All which her sight made live, her absence die,
A rich disparent pinnacle she weares,
Drawne full of circles and strange characters:
Her face was changeable to every eye,
One way lookt ill, an other graciouslie,
Which while men viewed they cheerefull were & holy,
But looking of, vicious and melanchollie;
The snakie paths to each obserued law,
Did pollicie in her broade bosome draw,
One hand a mathematique christall swayes,
Which gathering in one line a thousand rayes;
From her bright eyes confusion burnes to death,
And all estates of men distinguisheth,
By it mortality and comlinesse,
Them selues Them selues in all their sightly figures dresse.
Her other hand a Laurell rod applies,
To beate back barbarisme and Auarice:
That followed eating earth and excrement,
And humaine limbs, and would make proud ascent,
To seates of Gods were Ceremonie slaine,
The houres and graces bore her glorious traine,
And all the sweets of our societie,
Were spheard and treasured in her bounteous eyes.
G. Chapman.
Of Lovers.

Who with a mayden voyce, and mincing pace,
Quaint lookes, curled locks, perfumes, and painted face,
Base coward hart, and wanton soft aray,
Their manhood onely by their beard bewray,
Are cleanly called, who likeliest greedy Goates
Brothell from bed to bed; whose Syren notes
Inchaunt chast Susans, and like hungry Kite
Fly at all game, they Lovers are behight.
I. Syluester.

Who beare upon their French-sick-backs about,
Farmes, Castels, fees in golden shields cut out,
Whose hand had at one Primerorest:
One pompous Turney, or on pampering feast.
Spends themselues, scrapt by the usurie and care
Of miser parents, liberall counted are.
Idem.

Who by false bargaines and unlawfull measures,
Robbing the world, have heaped kingly treasures:
Who cheat the simple, lend for fifty, fifty
Hundred, for hundred are esteemed thrifty.
Idem.
Renowne.

A trump more shrill then Tritons on the Sea,
The said Renowne precursour of the traine,
Did sound (for who rings louder then Renowne:)
He mounted was upon a flying horse,
And cloathed in Faulcons feathers to the ground,
By his Escochion iustly might you gesse,
He was the Herauld of Eternity,
And Pursevant at Armes to mighte jove.
G. Peele.
Of Doubt.

— Doubt had a double face,
Th'one forward looking, the other backward bent,
Therein resembling janus auncient,
Which hath in charge the in-gate of the yeare,
And evermore his eyes about him went,
As if some prooved perill he did feare,
Or did misdoubt some ill whose cause did not appeare.
Ed. Spenser.
Of a Gunne.

Vulcan begot me, Minerua me taught,
Nature my mother, Craft nourisht me yeare by yeare,
Three bodies are my foode, my strength is naught,
Anger, Wrath, Wast, and Noise my children deere,
Gesse friend what I am, and how I am wrought:
Monster of sea, or land, or of else-where
Knowe and use me, and I may thee defend,
And I be thy enemy I may thy life end.
S. Th. W.
Of an Hargabush,

He hath his other weapons strange among
A trunke of iron hollow made within,
And there he puts powder and pellets in,
All closed save a little hole behind,
Whereat no sooner taken is the flame,
The bullet flies with such a furious wind,
As though from clouds a bolt of thunder came:
And what-so-ever in the way it finde,
It burnes it, breakes it, teares it, spoiles the same;
No doubt some fiend of hell or devillish wight
Devised it, to doe mankind a spight.
S. I. Harrington,
Of an Horse.

Round hoofed, short jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nosthrils wide,
High crest, short eares, straite leggs, and passing strong ▪
Thin maine, thick taile, broad buttock, tender hide;
Looke what an horse should have he did not lacke
Save a proud rider on so proud a backe.
W. Shakespeare.

Among a hundred brave, light, lusty horses,
(With curious eye marking their comly forces)
He chooseth one for his industrious proofe,
With round, high, hollow, smooth, browne, ielly hoofe,
with pasternes short, upright, but yet in meane,
Dry sinewie shanks, strong fleshlesse knees and leane,
with hart-like leggs, broad breast, and large behinde,
with body large, smooth flanks, and double chinde:
A crested necke bowed like a halfe bent bowe,
whereon a long thin curled maine doth flowe;
A firme full taile touching the lowly ground,
with dock betweene two faire fat buttocks drownd;
A pricked eare, that rests as little space
As his light foote; a leane bare bony face,
Thin iowle, and head but of a middling size
Full lively flaming, quickly rowling eyes,
Great foaming mouth, hote fuming nosthrill wide,
Of chest-nut haire, his forehead starrified;
Three milky feete, a feather on his brest,
whom seaven yeares old at the next grasse he gest.
I. Syluester.
Of a starued man.

His sad dull eyes deepe sunke in hollow pits,
Could not endure the unwonted sunne to view,
His bare thin cheekes for want of belly-bits,
And empty sides deceaved of their dve,
Could make a stony hart his hap to rve;
His raw bone armes whose mighty brawnie bowres,
Were wont to rive steele plates and helmets hewe,
Were cleane consumed, and all his vitall parts
Decaied, & all his flesh shrunk up like withered flowers.
Ed. Spenser.
Of the confusion of languages.

This said, as soone confusedly did bound,
Through all the work, I wote not what strange sound,
A iangling noyse, not much unlike the rumors
Of Bacchus Swaines, amid their drunken humors:
Some speake betweene the teeth, some in the nose:
Some in the throate their words doe ill dispose:
Some howle and cry, and some stut and straine,
Each hath his gibberish, and all strive in vaine.
To finde againe their knowne beloved tong,
That with their milk they suckt in cradle yong:
Arise betimes while th'opal-coloured morne,
In golden pompe dooth May dayes doore adorne;
And patient, heare th'all differing voyces sweet
Of painted fingers, that in Groves doe greete:
There love Bon-iours each in his phrase and fashion,
From trembling pearch, uttering his earnest passion,
And so thou mayest conceite what mingle mangle
Among this people every where did iangle.
Bring me (quoth one) a trowell, quickly, quicke,
One brings him up a hammer; hew this bricke
Another bids, and then they cleave a tree:
Make fast this rope, and then they let it flee,
One calls for planks, another morter lacks:
They beare the first a stone, the last an axe,
One would have spikes, and him a spade they gave,
Another askes a sawe, and gets a sive;
Thus crosly crost, they prate and poynt in vaine,
what one hath made, another marrs againe,
Nigh breathlesse all, with theyr confused yawling
In bootelesse labour, now begins appawling.
I. Syluester.
Of Posteritie.

Daughter of Time, sincere Posteritie,
Alwayes new borne, yet no man knowes thy birth,
The arbitresse of pure Sinceritie,
Yet, changeable, (like Proteus) on the earth,
Sometime in plenty, sometime joind with dearth.
Alwayes to come, yet alwayes present heere,
Whom all runne after, none come after neere.
Vnpartiall judge of all save present state,
Truth's Idioma of the things are past,
But still pursuing present things with hate,
And more iniurious at the first then last,
Preseruing others, while thine owne do wast:
True treasurer of all antiquitie,
Whom all desire, yet never o•• could see.
Char. Fitz jeffrey.
Discriptions of Beautie & personage.

What tongue can her perfections tell
•n whose each part all pennes may dwell?
Her hayre fine threds of finest gold
•n curled knots, mens thoughts to hold,
•ut that her forehead saies, in mee,
A whiter beautie you may see.
whiter indeed: more white then snow
which on cold winters face doth grow:
That doth present those even browes,
whose equall line their angles bowes
Like to the Moone, when after change
Her horned head abroade doth range;
And arches be to heavenly lids,
whose wincke each bold attempt forbids.
For the black starres those spheres containe
The matchlesse paire even praise doth staine.
No lampe whose light by art is got,
No sunne which shines and setteth not,
Can liken them without all peere
Save one as much as other cleere,
which onely thus unhappy bee,
Because themselues they cannot see.
Her cheekes which kindly claret spred,
Aurora like new out of bed,
Or like the fresh Queene apples side,
Blushing at sight of Phoebus pride.
Her nose her chin, pure juory weares
No purer then the prety eares:
So that therein appeares some blood
Like wine and milke that mingled stood:
In whose incircles if yee gaze
Your eyes may tread a Lovers maze:
But with such turnes the voyce to stray,
No talke untaught can finde the way,
The lippe no iewell needes to weare,
The lippe is iewell of the eare.
But who those ruddy lips can misse?
which blessed still themselues doe kisse,
Rubies, cherries, and roses new,
•n worth, in tast, in perfect hew:
which never part but that they show
Of precious pearles the double row:
The second sweetly fenced ward,
Her heavenly dewed tongue to gard,
whence never word in vaine did flow:
•aire under these doth stately grow
The handle of this precious work,
The necke in which strange graces lurke.
•uch be I thinke the sumptuous Towres
•hich skill doth make in Princes bowres:
•o good a say inuites the eye
• little downeward to espie
The lively clusters of her brests,
•f Venus babe the wanton nests.
•ike pommels rounde of marble cleere,
•here azurde vaines well mixt appeare,
•ith dearest tops of Porphirie
•etwixt these two away doe lie:
•way more worthy beauties fame,
•hen that which beares the milkie name,
•his leades unto the ioyous field
•hich onely still doth Lillies yeeld,
•t Lillies such whose native smell
•he Indian odours doth excell:
•ast it is calld, for it doth wast
•ens lives untill it be imbrast.
•here may one see, and yet not see
Her ribs in white all armed be,
More white then Neptunes foamy face
when strugling, rocks he would imbrace.
In those delights the wandring thought
Might of each side astray be brought,
But that her navell doth unite
In curious circle, busie sight:
A daintie seale of Virgine waxe,
where nothing but impression lacks.
Her belly there glad sight doth fill,
justly intituled Cupids hill:
A hill most fit for such a maister,
A spotlesse Mine of Alablaster.
Like Alablaster fayre and sleeke,
But soft and subtile, Satten like:
In that sweete sea the boy doth sport,
Loth I must leave his cheefe resort,
For such a use the world hath gotten,
The best things still must be forgotten.
Yet never shall my song omit
Her thighes, for Ouids song more fit,
Which flanked with two sugred flancks
Lift up theyr stately swelling banks,
That Albion cliffes in whitenes passe,
with hanches smooth as looking-glasse.
But bow all knees, now of her knees
My tongue doth tell what fancie sees,
The knots of ioy, the iems of love,
Whose motion makes all graces move:
whose bought incaved doth yeeld such sight,
Like cunning painter shadowing white.
The gartring place with child-like signe
Shewes easie print in mettall fine:
But then againe the flesh doth rise
In her brave calues, like christall skies,
whose Atlas is a smallest small,
More white then whitest bone of all.
Thereout steales out that round cleane foote,
This noble Cedars precious roote,
In shew and sent, pale Violets,
Whose steppe on earth all beauty sets.
But backe unto her backe my Muse,
where Ledas swan his feathers mewes,
Along whose ridge such bones are met
Like Comfets round in Marchpane set.
Her shoulders be like two white Doves
Pearching in square royall rooves,
Which leaded are with siluer skin
Passing the hate-spot Ermelin.
And thence those armes derived are,
The Phenixe wings are not so rare
For faultlesse length and stainelesse hue;
Ah woe is mee, my woes renew.
Now course doth leade me to her hand,
Of my first love the fatall band,
where whitenes doth for ever sit,
Nature her selfe her selfe inameld it:
For there, with strange compact doth lie
Warme snow, moist pearle, soft juorie.
There fall those Saphire coloured brookes,
Which conduit like with curious crookes
Sweete Ilands make in that sweet land.
As for he fingers of the hand,
The bloody shafts of Cupids war,
with Amathists they headed are.
Thus hath each part his beauties part.
But now the Graces doe impart
To all her limms a speciall grace,
Becomming every time and place.
which doth even beauty beautifie,
And most bewitch the wretched eye.
Now all this is but a faire Inne,
Of fayrest guests which dwell therein:
Of whose high praise, and praisefull blisse,
Goodnes the pen, heaven paper is,
The Incke immortall fame doth lend.
As I began, so must I end:
No tongue can her perfections tell,
In whose each part all pens may dwell.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not,
But heavenly pourtrait of bright Angels hue,
Cleere as the skie, withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions dve,
And in her cheekes the vermell red did show,
Like roses in a bed of Lillies shed,
The which Ambrosiall odours from her threw,
And gazers sence with double pleasure fed,
Able to heale the sick, and to reviue the dead.
In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame,
Kindled above, at th'heavenly Makers light,
And darted fiery beames about the same
So passing persant, and so wondrous bright,
That quite bereaved the rash beholders sight.
In them the blinded God his lustfull fire
To kindle oft assaide but had no might,
For with dread maiestie and awful ire
Shee broke his wanton shafts & quencht his base desire.
Her juory forhead, ful of bounty brave
Like a broade table did it selfe it selfe dispread,
For love his loftie tryumphs to ingrave,
And write the battailes of his great god-head,
All good and honour might therein be read,
For there their dwelling was. And when she spake,
Sweet words like dropping honney she did shed,
And twixt the pearles and Rubies softly broke
A siluer sound that heavenly musick seemd to make.
Vpon her eye-lids many graces sate
Vnder the shadow of her even browes,
Working belgards and amorous retrate,
And every one her with a grace endowes,
And every one with meekenes to her bowes:
So glorious mirror of celestiall grace,
And soveraigne monument of mortal vowes,
How shal fraile pen describe her heavenly face,
For feare through want of skil her beauty to disgrace?
So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire
Shee seemed, when she presented was to sight,
And was yclad for heate of scorching ayre
All in a silken Camous, lilly white,
Purfled upon with many a folded plight:
Which al above besprinckled was throughout
with golden aygulets that glistered bright
Like twinckling starres: and al the skyrt about
was hemd about with golden frindge.
Below her hamme her weede did somewhat traine,
And her straite leggs most bravely were embaild
In gilden Buskins of costly Cordwaine,
All bard with golden bends which were entaild
with curious antiques, and full fayre aumaild.
Before they fastned were under her knee
In a rich jewell, and therein intrailde
The ends of all theyr knots, that none might see
How they within theyr foldings close enwrapped bee:
Like two fayre Marble pillers they were seene,
which doe the temple of the Gods support,
whom all the people deck with garlands greene:
Those same with stately grace and princely port
Shee taught to tread when she herselfe would grace.
But with the wooddy Nimphs when she did play,
Or when the flying Libbard she did chace,
Shee could then nimbly moove, and after flie a pace.
Within her hand a sharp Bore-speare she held,
And at her back a bow and quiver gay,
Shaft with steele-headed darts, wherewith she queld
The savage beasts in her victorious play:
Knit with a golden bauldrick, which forlay
Athwart the snowy breast, and did devide
Her dainty paps, which like young fruite in May
Now little gan to swell; and beeing tyde,
Through her thin weede theyr places signified.
Her yellow locks crisped, like golden wyre,
About her shoulders weren loosely shed,
And when the winde amongst them did inspyre,
They waved like a Penon wide despred,
And low behinde her backe were scattered:
And whether art it were, or heedelesse hap,
As through the flowring forrest rash she fled,
In her rude haires sweete flowers did wrap
Such as Diana by the sandy shore
Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene;
where all the Nimphs have her unwares forlore,
Wandreth alone, with bowes and arrowes keene
To seeke her game: or as that famous Queene
Of Amazons, whom Pyrhus did destroy
The day that first of Priam shee was seene,
Did shew herselfe in great tryumphant ioy,
To succour the weake state of sad-afflicted Troy.
Edm. Spencer.

Her yellow locks exceede the beaten gold,
Her sparkling eyes in heaven a place deserue,
Her forhead high and faire, of comely mold:
her words are musicall, of siluer sound,
her wit so sharp, as like can scarce be found.
Each eye-brow hangs like Iris in the skyes,
Her Eagles nose is straite, of stately frame,
On eyther cheeke a Rose and Lilly lyes,
Her breath is sweet perfume, or holy flame:
her lips more red then any Corrall stone,
her necke more white then aged Swans that mone.
Her breast transparent is, like christall rock,
Her fingers long, fit for Apollos Lute,
Her slipper such as Momus dare not mock,
Her vertues are so great, as make me mute.
what other parts she hath, I neede not say,
whose fairest face alone is my decay.
Tho. Watson.

Like to the cleere in highest spheare
where al imperious glory shines,
Of selfe same colour is her hayre
whether unfolded or in twines:
Her eyes are Saphyres set in snow,
Refyning heaven by every winke,
The Gods doe feare when as they glow,
And I doe tremble when I thinke.
Her cheekes are like the blushing clowde
That beautifies Auroras face,
Or like the siluer crimson shrowde
That Phoebus smiling locks doe grace:
Her lips are like two budded Roses
Whom ranks of Lillies neighbour nie,
which with bounds she stil incloses,
Apt to intice a deitie.
Her necke is like a stately towre,
where Love himselfe in pleasure lies,
To watch for glaunces every howre
From her divine and sacred eyes.
Her paps are centers of delight,
Her paps are rocks of heavenly flame,
where Nature moulds the dew of light
To feede perfection with the same:
With orient pearle, with Rubie red,
with Marble white, with azure blew,
Her body every way is fed,
Yet soft in touch, and sweet in view:
Nature herselfe her shape admires,
The Gods are wounded in her sight,
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires,
And at her eyes his brands doth light.
D. Lodge.

She lay and seemd a flood of Diamant
Bounded in flesh: as stil as Vespers haire
When not an Aspen leafe is stird with ayre:
She lay at length, like an immortal soule
At endlesse rest in blest Elizium,
And then did true felicitie inroule
So faire a Lady, figure of her kingdom.
Now as she lay attirde in nakednes
His eye did carue him on that feast of feasts,
Sweet fieldes of life which deaths foote dare not presse,
Flowrd with th'unbroken waves of my loves breasts,
See wherewith bent of gold curld into knots.
In her heads grove the spring-bird Lameat nests,
Her body doth present those fields of peace
where soules are feasted with the soule of ease.
To prove which Paradice that nurseth these,
See see the golden rivers that renowne it,
Rich Gyhon, Tigris, Phison, Euphrates,
Two from her bright Pelopian shoulders crowne it,
And two out of her snowy hills doe glide,
That with a deluge of delight doe drowne it:
These highest two their precious streames devide
To tenne pure floods that do the body dutie,
Bounding themselues in length, but not in beauty.
These wind theyr courses through the paynted bowers,
And raise such sounds in theyr inflection
As ceaselesse start from earth fresh sorts of flowers,
And bound that booke of life with every section.
In these the Muses dare not swim for drowning,
Theyr sweetnes poysons with such sweet infection,
And leaves the onely lookers on them swouning,
These formes and colour makes them so to shine,
That Gods for them, would cease to be divine.
G. Chapman.

Her Lilly hand her rosie cheekes lie under,
Coosning the pillow of a lawfull kisse,
Who therefore angry, seemes to part in sunder,
Swelling on eyther side to want his blisse,
Betweene whose hills her head entombed is;
Where, like a vertuous monument she lyes,
To be admirde of lewd unhallowed eyes.
Without the bed her other fayre hand was
On the greene Coverlet, whose perfect white
Shewd like an Aprill daisie on the grasse,
with pearlie sweat, resembling dewe of night;
Her eyes like Marigolds had sheathed theyr light:
And canopied in darknes, sweetly lay,
Till they might open to adorne the day.
Her haire like golden threds, playd with her breath,
(O modest wantons, wanton modestie)
Shewing lifes tryumph in the Map of death,
And deaths dim lookes in lifes mortalitie:
Each in her sleepe themselues so beautifie
As if betweene them twaine there were no strife,
But that life lived in death, and death in life.
Her breasts like juory globes circled with blew,
A payre of mayden worlds unconquered,
Save of theyr Lord, no bearing yoke they knew,
And him by oath they truly honoured:
These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred:
who like a foule usurper went about
From this faire throne to heave the owner out.
W. Shakespeare.

Starres fall to fetch fresh light from her rich eyes,
Her bright brow drives the sunne to clowdes beneath,
Her haires reflexe, with red strakes paint the skies,
Sweet morne and evening dew falls from her breath.
T. Nash.

Fayrer then Isaacks lover at the well,
Brighter then inside barke of new hewen Cedar,
Sweeter then flames of fire-perfumed Mirrhe,
And comlier then the siluer clowdes that daunce
On Zephyrus wings before the King of heaven.
G. Peele.

Her lookes were like beames of the morning sunne
Forth-looking through the windowes of the East,
When first the fleecie cattell have begunne
Vpon the pearled grasse to make theyr feast:
Her thoughts are like the fume of Francensence,
Which from a golden Censor forth did rise:
And throwing forth sweet odours, mounts from thence
In rolling globes up to the vaulted skies:
There she beholds with hie aspyring thought,
The cradle of her owne creation:
Among the seates of Angels, heavenly wrought,
Much like an Angell in all forme and fashion.
S. Daniell.

Her locks are pleighted like the fleece of wooll
That jason with his Grecian mates atchived,
As pure as gold, yet not from gold derived,
As full of sweets, as sweet of sweetes is full:
Her browes are prety tables of conceate,
Where Love his records of delight doth quote,
On them her dallying locks doe daily floate,
As love ful oft doth feede upon the baite ▪
Her eyes, faire eyes, like to the purest lights
That animate the sunne, or cheere the day,
In whom the shining sun-beames brightly play
whilst fancie doth on them devine delights.
Her cheekes like ripened Lillies steept in wine,
Or fayre Pomegranate kirnels washt in milke,
Or snow-white threds in nets of Crimson silke,
Or gorgeous clowdes upon the sunnes decline.
Her lips like Roses over-washt with dew,
Or like the Purple of Narcissus flowre,
No frost theyr faire, no wind doth wrest theyr powre,
But by her breath theyr beauties do renew.
Her christal chin like to the purest mould
Enchast with dainties, Daisies soft and white,
Where Fairies faire pavilion once is pight,
Whereas embrasd his beauties he doth hold.
Her necke like to an juory shining towre,
Where through with azure vaines sweet Nectar runnes,
Or like the downe of swanns,
Or like delight that doth it selfe it selfe devoure.
Her paps are like fayre apples in the prime,
As round as orient pearles, as soft as downe,
They never vaile theyr faire through winters frowne,
But from these sweets Love suckt his sommer time:
Her bodies beauties best esteemed bowre,
Delicious, comely, dainty, without staine,
The thought whereof (not toucht) hath wrought my paine.
Whose face so faire all beauties doth distaine,
Her maiden wombe the dwelling house of pleasure,
Not like, for why no like surpasseth wonder:
O blest is he may bring such beauties under,
Or search by svite the secrets of that treasure.
R. Greene.

Like to Diana in her sommer weede
Girt with a Crimson robe of brightest die
goes fayre Samela,
As fayre Aurora in her morning gray,
Deckt with the ruddy lustre of her love
is fayre Samela,
Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day,
When as her brightnes Neptunes fancie moves,
Shines faire Samela.
Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassie streames,
Her teeth are pearle, the breasts are juory
of faire Samela.
Her cheekes like rosie-lillies yeeld forth gleames,
Her browes bright arches, framde of Ebonie,
thus faire Samela.
Passeth faire Venus in her bravest hue,
And juno in the shew of maiestie,
for she is Samela.
Pallas in wit, all three if you will view,
For beauty wit, and matchlesse dignitie,
yeeldes faire Samela.
D. Lodge.

Their soft young cheeke-balls to the eye,
Are of the fresh vermilion die,
So Lillies out of Scarlet peere,
So Roses bloomd in Lady Vere:
So shot two wanton starres yfere,
In the eternall burning Sphere.
G. Chapman.

Her eyes like Gemini attend on jove,
Her stately front was figured from above:
Her dainty nose of juory faire and sheene,
Bepurfurate with ruddy Roses beene.
Her cherry lips doth daunt the morning dew,
From whence a breath so pleasant doth ensue
As that which layd fayre Psyches in the vale,
Whom Cupid woed, and woed to his availe:
Within the compasse of which hollow sweet,
Those orient rancks of siluer perles do meet,
Prefixing like prefixion to the eye,
As siluer clowd amidst the sommers skie,
From whence such words in wisedome couched be,
As Gods from thence fetch theyr Phylosophie.
Her dimpled chin of Alablaster white,
Her stately necke, where nature did acquite
Her selfe Her selfe so well, as that at suddaine sight
Shee wisht the worke were spent upon herselfe,
Her cunning thus was showed upon the shelfe;
For in this hand was fancie painted faire ▪
In eyther hand an azure hand she bare.
By one, repeating many a sweete consent,
By th'other, comfort to the hart she sent:
From which a seemely passage there doth flow
To strangers pleasures that are placst below;
Like to the furrow Phaeton did leave
Amidst the Welkin, when he did receave
His Fathers charge, and set the world on fire.
In this fayre path oft paced sweet desire,
At every turne beholding with delight
That marble mount that did affect the sight.
Of Virgine waxe the sweet impression was,
The cunning compasse thereof did surpasse,
For arte concluding all perfections there,
Writ this report, all graces dwelleth heere.
Which Cupid spying, bvilt his mansion so,
As scorning those sweet graces to bestow
On mortall man, with bow ybent doth waite
Least jove should steale impressions by deceit,
And wondring at the crisped Comet faire,
In thought concludes it meeter for the ayre
Then mortall mould: next with the stately thighes,
Like two fayre compast marble pillars rise,
Whose white doth staine the dainty driven snow;
Next which the knees with lustie bent below
Conjoind with nerues and cordes of Amber sweet,
These stately piles with gladsome honour greet:
Such stately knees as when they bend alite,
All knees doe bend and bow with strange delight.
Her calues with stranger compasse doe succeede,
In which the azure streames a wonder breede,
Both arte and nature therein laboured have
To paint perfection in her colours brave.
Next which, the prety ground-worke of the pyle
Doth show it selfe it selfe, and wonder doth beguile;
The joints whereof combinde of Amber sweet,
With Corrall cords yeeld bent to seemely feete,
From which who list to lift his gazing eye,
Shall greater cause of wonder soone espy:
When on the backe he bends his wavering looke
In which the worke and taske Diana tooke
when with Arachne for the prize she strave,
Both arte and nature there excellence have;
Where from Pigmalions image seemelie white,
whose close conueyance passing Gordians plight,
where lovely Nectar, drinke for all the Gods,
where every Grace is stained there by ods,
will not content which gazing looke for more,
And spy those armes that stand his sight before
which for their mould th'Egyptian wonders passe,
Which for their beauty staine the christall glasse,
which in theyr bosome cover natures sweet,
where blushing streames present a secret meet,
will now amazde, conclude at last of this,
That in the hands all grace concluded is:
where nature limits ever fatall time,
where fortune figures pleasure in her prime,
whence spread those fingers typt with juory,
whose touch Medusas turne may well supply:
where to conclude, now all the shepheards deeme
All grace, all beauty, all perfections seeme.
D. Lodge.

Yet never eye to Cupids seruice vowde
Beheld a face of such a lovely pride:
A Tynsill vale her golden locks did shrowde,
That strove to cover what it could not hide:
The golden sunne behind a siluer clowde,
So streameth out his beames on every side,
The marble goddesse set at Cnidos naked
Shee seemd; were she unclothed, or that awaked.
The gamesome winde among her tresses plaies,
And curleth up those growing riches short,
Her sparefull eye to spread his beames denaies,
But keepes his shot where Cupid keepes his fort.
F. G.

Shee was a woman in her freshest age
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
with goodly grace and comly personage
That was on earth not easie to compare,
Full of great love, but Cupids wanton snare
As hell she hated: chast in word and will,
Her necke and breasts were ever open bare,
That aye thereof her babes might suck theyr fill,
The rest was all in yellow robes araied still.
Edm. Spencer.

A shape whose like in waxe was hard to frame,
Or to expresse by skill of Painters rare;
Her hayre was long and yellow to the same,
As might with wyer of beaten gold compare:
Her lovely cheekes with shew of modest shame,
with Roses and with Lillyes painted are.
Her forhead faire, and full of seemely cheere,
As smooth as pollisht juory doth appeare:
Vnder two arches of most curious fashion
Stand two black eyes, that like two cleere suns shind.
Steddy in looke, but apt to take compassion,
Amid which lights the naked boy and blind
Casteth his darts that cause so many a passion,
Leaving a sweet and curelesse wound behind,
From whence the nose in such good sort descended ▪
As enuy knowes not how it may be mended.
Vnder the which, in dve and comly space
Standeth the mouth, stainde with vermilion hew,
Two rowes of pearles serue in theyr place,
Hence come the courteous words and full of grace
That mollifie hard harts and make them new:
From hence proceed those smilings sweet and nice,
That seeme to make an earthly Paradice.
Her brests as milke, her necke as white as snow,
Round was her necke, most plum and large her breast,
Two juory apples seemed there to grow,
Tender and smooth, and fittest to be prest,
Waving like seas when wind most calme doth blow.
Argos himselfe might not discerne the rest,
Yet by presumption well it might be gest
That that which was concealed was the best.
Her armes dve measure of proportion bare,
Her fayre white hand was to be viewed plaine,
The fingers long, the joints so curious are
As neyther knot appeard nor swelling vaine,
And full to perfect all those features rare,
The foote that to be seene doth sole remaine,
Slender and short, little it was and round,
A finer foote might no where well be found.
S. I. Harr.

Apollo when my mistris first was borne
Cut off his locks, and left them on her head,
And sayd, I plant these wyres in natures scorne,
Whose lustre shall appeare when time is dead:
From forth the christall heaven when she was made,
The puritie thereof did taint her brow,
On which the glistering that sought the shade
Gan set, and there his glories doth avow.
Those eyes, fayre eyes, too faire to be described,
Were those that erst the Chaos did reforme,
To whom the heavens theyr beauties have ascribd,
That fashion life in man, in beast, in worme,
When first her fayre delicious cheekes were wrought,
Aurora brought her blush, the Moone her white,
Both so combinde as passed natures thought,
Compild those prety orbes of sweet delight:
When love and nature once were proud with play,
From forth theyr lips, her lips their colour drew,
On them doth fancie sleepe, and every day
Doth swallow ioy such sweet delights to view.
While one while Venus sonne did seeke a bowre
To sport with Psyches his desired deere,
He chose her chin, and from that happy stowre
He never stints in glory to appeare.
Desires and ioyes that long had serued love,
Besought a hold where prety eyes might wooe them,
Love made her neck, and for her best behove
Hath shut them there where no man can undoe them.
Once Venus dreamd upon two prety things,
Her thoughts, they were affections cheefest nests,
She suckt and sighed, and bathed her in the springs,
And when she wakt, they were my mistres breasts.
Once Cupid sought a hold to couch his kisses,
And found the body of my best beloved,
Wherein he cloyd the beauty of his blisses,
And from that bower can never be removed.
The Graces erst when Acidalian springs
were wexen dry, perhaps did finde her fountaine
Within the bale of blisse, where Cupids wings
Doe shield the Nectar fleeting from the fountaine.
R. Greene.

Her curious locks of gold like Tagus sands,
Her forhead smooth and white as juory,
where glory, state, and bashfulnes held hands:
Her eyes, one making peace, the other wars,
By Venus one, the other ruld by Mars.
Her Eagles nose, her scarlet cheeke halfe white,
Her teeth of orient pearle, her gracious smile,
Her dimpled chin, her breast as cleere as light,
Her hand like hers whom Titan did beguile.
Tho. Watson.

Queene Vertues cave which some call Stellas face
Repaird by natures cheefest furniture,
Hath his forfront of Alablaster pure,
Gold is the covering of that stately place:
The doore by which sometimes runnes forth her grace,
Red Porphirie which lock of pearle makes sure,
Whose porches rich which name of cheekes endure,
Marble-mixt red and white doe interlace.
The windowes now through which this heavenly gues•
Lookes on the world, and can finde nothing such
which dare claime from those sights the name of best,
Of touch they are that without touch do touch,
which Cupids selfe from beauties mine did draw,
Of touch they are, and poore I, am theyr straw.
S. Phil. Sidney.

Two sunnes at once from one faire heaven there shind,
Ten branches from two boughes tipt all with roses,
Pure locks, more golden then is gold refinde,
Two pearled rowes that natures pride incloses;
Two mounts faire marble, white downe, soft & dainty,
Full wofull makes my hart, and body fainty.
D. Lodge.

O shee doth teach the torches to burne bright,
It seemes she hangs upon the cheeke of night
As a rich jewell in an Ethiops eare,
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too deare:
So showes a snowy Dove trooping with crowes,
As yonder Lady ore her fellowes showes.
W. Shakespeare.

To make the wondrous power of heaven appeare
In nothing more then her perfections found,
Close to her navill she her mantle wrests,
Slacking it upwards, and the folds unwound,
Showing Latonas twins, her plenteous brests:
The Sunne and Cynthia in their tryumph robes
Of Lady skin more rich then both theyr globes.
G. Chapman.

Vpon a bed of Roses she was layd,
As faint through heate, or dight to pleasant sin,
And was araide, or rather disaraid
All in a vaile of silke and siluer thin,
That hid no whit her Alablaster skin,
But rather showd more white, if more might be;
More subtile web Arachne cannot spin,
Nor the fine nets which oft we woven see
Of scorched dew, do not in th'ayre more lightly flie.
Her snowy breast was bare to ready spoyle
Of hungry eyes, which not therewith be fild,
And yet through languor of her late sweet toyle,
Few drops more cleere then Nectar forth distild,
That like pure orient pearles adowne it thrild,
Fraile harts yet quenched not, like starry light,
which sparkling on the silent waves, doe seeme more bright.
Edm. Spen.

Her juory necke, her Alablaster breast,
Her paps, which like white silken pillowes were,
For love in soft delight thereon to rest:
Her tender sides, her belly white and cleere,
Which like an Altar did it selfe it selfe upreare,
To offer sacrifice devine thereon:
Her goodly thighes, whose glory did appeare
Like a triumphall arch, and thereupon
The spoiles of Princes hangd, which were in battaile wone.
Idem.

— Her sparkling eyes
Doe lighten forth sweet loves alluring fire,
And in her tresses she doth fold the lookes
Of such as gaze upon her golden hayre.
Her bashfull white, mixt with the mornings red,
Luna doth boast upon her lovely cheekes:
Her front is Beauties table, where she paints
The glories of her gorgeous excellence:
Her teeth are shelues of precious Margarite,
Richly inclosd with ruddy Currall cleeves.
R. Greene.

My mistres is a paragon, the fayrest fayre alive,
Alcides and Aeacides for fairelesse faire did strive,
Her colour fresh as damaske rose, her breath as violet,
Her body white as juory, as smooth as pollisht jet,
As soft as down, & were she downe, jove might com down & kisse
A love so fresh, so sweet, so white, so smooth, so soft as this.
W. Warner.

Then cast she off her roabe and stoode upright,
As lightning breakes out of the labouring clowde,
Or as the morning heaven casts off her night,
Or as that heaven cast off it selfe it selfe, and showde
Heavens upper light, to which the brightest day
Is but a black and melancholy shrowde:
Or as when Venus strived for soveraigne sway
Of choisefull beauty in young Troyes desire,
So stoode Corinna varnishing her tyre.
G. Chapman.

Herewith she rose, like the Autumnall starre
Fresh burnisht in the lofty Ocean flood,
That darts his glorious influence more farre
Then any lampe of bright Olympus broode:
Shee lifts her lightning armes above her head
And stretcheth a Meridian, from her blood
That slept awakt in her Elizian bed:
Then knit shee up, least loosd, her glowing haire
Should scorch the centre, and incense the ayre.
Idem.

Sweete mouth that sendst a muskie-rosied breath
Fountaine of Nectar and delightfull balme,
Eyes clowdy-cleere, smile-frowning, stormie-calme,
Whose every glaunce darts me a lyving death:
Browes, bending quaintly, your round Eben arkes,
Smile, that then Venus sooner Mars besets,
Locks more then golden, curld in curious knots,
where in close ambush wanton Cupid lurkes,
Grace Angel-like, faire forhead, smooth and hie,
Pure white that dimst the Lillies of the vale,
Vermilion rose that makest Aurora pale.
I. Siluester.

Such colour had her face as when the sunne
Shines in a watry clowde in pleasant spring;
And even as when the Sommer is begunne
The Nightingales in boughes doe sit and sing,
So the blind God, whose force can no man shunne
Sits in her eyes, and thence his darts doth fling:
Bathing his wings in her bright christal streames,
And sunning them in her rare beauties beames.
In these he heads his golden-headed dart,
In those he cooleth it, and tempereth so,
He levels thence at good Obertos hart,
And to the head he drawes it in his bow.
S. I. Harr.

— Olympias beauty was so rare
As well might move a man the same to note:
Her hayre, her cheekes, her eyes, most amorous are,
Her nose, her mouth, her shoulders, and her throat,
As for her other parts that then were bare,
Which she was wont to cover with her coate,
Were made in such a mould as might have moved
The chast Hippolitus her to have loved:
A man would thinke them framd by Phidias arts,
Theyr colour and proportion good was such:
And unto them her shamefastnes imparts
A greater grace to that before was much.
I cease to praise those other secret parts,
Nothing so fit to talke of as to touch:
In generall, all was as white as milk,
As smooth as juory, and as soft as silke.
Had shee in vally of Idea beene
when Pastor Paris hap did so befall
To be a judge three goddesses betweene,
She should have got, and they forgone the ball:
Had she but once of him beene naked seene,
For Helena he had not card at all,
Nor broke the bonds of sacred hospitalitie,
That bred his country wars and great mortalitie.
Had she but then been in Crotona towne,
When Zeuxis for the Goddesse junos sake
To paint a picture of most rare renowne
Did many of the fayrest damsels make
To stand before him bare from foote to crowne,
A patterne of theyr perfect parts to take,
No doubt he would have all the rest refused,
And her alone in sted of all have chused.
S. I. Harr.

Faire is my love for Aprill in her face,
Her lovely breasts September claimes his part,
And lordly july in her eyes hath place,
But cold December dwelleth in her hart,
Blest be the months that sets my hart on fire,
Accurst that month that hindreth my desire.
Like Phaebus fire, so sparkles both her eyes,
As ayre perfumed with Amber is her breath,
Like swelling waves her lovely teates doe rise,
As earth her hart cold, dateth me to death.
In pompe sits mercy seated in her face,
Love twixt her breasts his trophies doth imprint,
Her eyes shines favour, curtesie, and grace,
But touch her hart, oh that is made of flint.
R. Greene.

Her hayre not trust, but scattered on her brow,
Surpassing Hyblaes honney for the view,
Or softened golden wyers.
Within these snares first was my hart intrapped,
Till through those golden shrouds mine eye did see
An juory shadowed front, wherein was wrapped
Those prety bowers where graces couched be:
Next which, her cheekes appeard like Crimson silke,
Or ruddy rose bespred in whitest milke.
Twixt which, the nose in lovely tenor bends
Two traces prety for a lovers view:
Next which her lips like violets commends
By true proportion that which doth ensue;
Which when they smile, present unto the eyes
The Oceans pride, and juory paradize.
Her pollisht necke of milke, where snows doe shine
As when the Moone in winter night beholds them,
Her breast of Alablaster cleere and fine,
whereon two rising apples fayre unfold them,
Like Cynthias face when in her full she shineth,
And blushing, to her love-mates bower declineth.
From whence in length her armes doe sweetly spread,
Like two rare branchie Saples in the spring,
Yeelding five lovely sprigs from every head,
Proportioned alike in every thing;
which featly sprout in length like spring borne friends
whose prety tops, with five sweet roses ends.
But why alas should I that marble hide
That doth adorne that one and other flanck,
From whence a mount of quickned snow doth glide,
Or else the vaile that bounds this milk-white banke,
where Venus and her sisters hide the fount,
whose lovely Nectar doth all sweetes surmount.
D. Lodge.

Whilst thus she meant unseene away to slide,
Her pearles and iewels causde her to be spide,
The muske and civet amber as she past,
Long after her a sweet perfume did cast:
A Carbuncle on her christall brow she pight,
whose fierie gleames expeld the shady night:
Vpon her head a siluer crispe she pind,
Loose waving on her shoulders with the wind.
Gold band her golden hayre, her juory neck,
The Rubies rich, and Saphires blew did deck,
And at her eare, a pearle of greater valew
There hung, then that the Egyptian Queene did swallow
And through her coller showd her snowy brest,
Her utmost robe was colour blew celest,
Benetted all with twist of perfect gold,
Beseeming well her comly corps t'enfold.
What els she ware, might wel be seene upon
That Queene who bvilt the towers of Babylon.
Her wavering hayre disparpling flew apart,
In seemely shed, the rest with recklesse art,
with many a curling ring decord her face,
And gave her ghastly browes a greater grace.
Two bending bowes of Eben coupled right,
Two lucent starres that were of heavenly light,
Two ietty sparks where Cupid chastly hides
His subtile shafts that from his quiver glides:
Tweene those two sunnes and front of equall size,
A comly figure formally did rise,
which draught unlevell to her lip descend,
where Momus selfe could nothing discommend.
Her pittid cheekes appeard to bee depaint
with mixed rose and lillies, sweet and saint:
Her dulcet mouth with precious breath repleat,
Exceld the Saben Queene in savour sweet:
Her corrall lips discovered as it were
Two ranks of orient pearles with smyling cheere:
Her juory necke, and breast of Alablaster,
Made heathen men of her more Idolastre.
Vpon her hand no wrinckled knot was seene,
But as each nayle of Mother of pearle had beene:
In short, this judith was so passing faire,
As if the learned Zeuxis had beene there
And seene this dame when he with pensill drew
The Croton dames, to forme the picture true
Of her for whom both Greece and Asia fought,
This onely patterne chiefe he would have sought.
Tho. Hudson.

Her words were like a streame of honny fleeting,
The which doth softly trickle from the hive,
Able to melt the hearers hart unweeting,
And eke to make the dead againe to live:
Her deedes were like great clusters of ripe grapes
Which loade the bunches of the fruitfull Vine,
Offering to fall into each mouth that gapes,
And fill the same with store of timely wine.
Her breast two hills ore-spread with purest snow,
Sweet, smooth, and supple, soft and gently swelling
Betweene them lyes a milkie dale below,
where love, youth, gladnes, whitenes make their dwelling,
Her enuious vesture greedy sight expelling:
So was the wanton clad, as if thus much
Should please the eye, the rest unseene they touch:
As when the sunne-beames dive through Tagus wave
To spy the store-house of his springing gold,
Love persing thought so through her mantle drave,
And in their gentle bosome wandred bold:
It viewd the wondrous beautie Virgins have,
And all to finde desire (with vantage) bold.
Alas what hope is left to quench this fire,
That kindled is by sight, blowne by desire.
D. Lodge.

Fayrer then was the Nymph of Mercurie,
Who when bright Phaebus mounteth up his coach,
And tracks Aurora in her siluer steps,
And sprinckling from the folding of her lap,
White Lillies, Roses, and sweet Violets.
R. Greene.

— Her Angels face
As the great eye of heaven shined bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place,
Did never mortall eye behold such heavenly grace.
Edm. Spencer.

Not that night-wandring pale and watry starre,
(when yawning dragons draw her thirsting carre
From Latmus mount up to the gloomie skie,
where crownd with blazing light and maiestie
She proudly sits) more over-rules the flood,
Then she the harts of those that neere her stood.
Ch. Marlow.

— O Daphne is more fayre
Then Angels swimming in the fluxivyce ayre.
Could Loves rich bed-chamber her two bright eyes,
Lodge but two guests at once, Beautie and Mercy ▪
Beauty lyes alwayes there, did Mercy too
Phaebus were then Daphne should be
Transformd into a stately dignitie.
Th. Dekkar.

Her stature comly tall, her gate well graced, and her wit,
To maruaile at, not medle with, as matchlesse I omit:
A globe-like head, a gold-like haire, a forhead smooth & hie•
An even nose, on eyther side stoode out a grayish eye,
Two rosie cheeks, round ruddy lips, white iust set teeth within
A mouth in mean, & underdeath, a round & dimpled chin:
Her snowish neck with blewish vaines stood bolt upright upon
Her portly shoulders, beating balls her vained brests anon
Ad more to beauty: wand-like was her middle, falling still,
And rising whereas women rise, imagine nothing ill,
And more, her long & limber arms had white and azurd wrist ▪
And slender fingers answer to her smooth & lilly fists,
A leg in print, a prety foote, coniecture of the rest,
For amorous eyes obseruing forme, think parts obscured best
W. Warner.

See where she issues in her beauties pompe,
As Flora to salute the morning sunne:
who when she shakes her tresses in the ayre,
Raines on the earth dissolued pearle in showres,
which with his beames the sunne exhales to heaven:
She holdes the spring and sommer in her armes,
And every plant puts on his freshest robes
To dannce attendance on her princely steps,
Springing and fading as she comes and goes.
G. Chapman.

Her hayre was loose, & bout her shoulders hung,
Vpon her browes did Venus naked lye,
And in her eyes did all the Graces swim.
Her cheekes that showd the temper of the mind,
Were beauties mornings where she ever rose,
Her lyps were loves rich altars where she makes
Her hart a never-ceasing sacrifice:
Her teeth stoode like a ranke of Dians maydes
when naked in a secrete bower they bathe;
Her long round necke was Cupids quiver calld,
And her sweet words that flew from her, his shafts,
Her soft round brests were his sole travaild Alpes,
where snow that thawed with sunne did ever lye,
Her fingers bounds to her rich deitie.
Idem.

•n Paradise of late a Dame begun
To peepe out of her bed with such a grace,
As matcht the rising of the morning sunne,
•vith drops of honney falling from her face,
Brighter then Phaebus fierie-pointed beames,
Or ycie crust of christall frozen streames.
Her hayre like Amber twisted up in gold,
Passing the pride or riches of the East,
With curious knots were into trammels rould,
As snary nettings for a wandring guest;
The feathers deckt her with a quaint disdaine
Like junos byrd in pompe of spotted traine.
Her shining forhead doth suppresse the starres,
New lightning sparkles from her lovely cheekes,
Her percing sight the stroake of beauties warres,
Wherewith the conquest of the world she seekes:
Brave be the darts that from her eyes she throwes,
When Cupid lurkes betweene her lovely browes,
Arabian odours breathe out of her talke,
Which she betweene the pearle and Ruby breaketh,
So smooth a compasse hath her tongue to walke,
As makes both heaven & earth blush whē she speaketh
No singing bird in all the ayre but doates,
And lay theyr eares attentive to her notes.
Her necke, her shoulders, and her breasts were bare,
Diana-like above the water smiling:
No snow, juory, or Alablaster there,
No statue of white Marble, me beguiling,
But the sweet season of the yeere I found
When Lillies peepe out of the grassie ground.
Her other parts unto my view denide,
Much like the lampe that burnt at Psyches bed,
Made such a fire into my hart to glide
That love awaked, and my body bled:
O had she not so great a force to please,
Desire had slept, and I had lived at ease.
S. G.

Astronomers the heavens doe devide
Into eyght houses, where the Gods remaine,
All which in thy perfections doe abide,
For in thy feete the Queene of silence raignes,
About thy wast joves messenger doth dwell,
Inchaunting me, as I thereat admire,
And on thy duggs the Queene of love doth tell
Her godheads power in scroules of my desire:
Thy beautie is the worlds eternall sunne,
Thy favours force a cowards hart to darres,
And in thy hayres, jove and his riches wonne,
Thy frownes hold Saturne, thine eyes the fixed starres.
H. C.

What length of verse brave Mopsus good to show?
•hose vertues strange, & beauties such, as no man may them know.
Thus shrewdly burdned thē, how can my Muse escape?
The gods must help, & precious things must serue to show her shape
Like great god Saturne faire, & like faire Venus chast,
As smooth as Pan as juno mild, like goddesse Iris gracst,
With Cupid she foresees, and goes Gods Vulcans pace,
And for a tast of all these gifts, she steales god Momus grace
Her forhead jacinth like, her cheekes of opall hue,
Her twinckling eyes bedeckt with pearle, her lyps as Saphires blew,
Her haire like crapal stone, her mouth ô heavenly wide,
Her skin like burnisht gold, her hands like siluer-ore untride:
As for her parts unknowne, which hidden sure are best,
Happy be they which wil beleeve, and never seeke the rest.
S. Phil. Sidney.

O words which fall like Sommer dew on me,
O breath more sweet then is the growing beane,
O tongue in which all honnied licours be,
O voyce that doth the Thrush in shrilnes staine,
Gay haire, more gay then straw when haruest lies,
Lips red and plum, as cherries ruddy side,
Eyes fayre and great, like fayre great Oxes eyes,
O breasts in which two white sheepe swell in pride.
But thou white skin, as white as curds well prest,
So smooth as Sleeke-stone like, it smooths each part,
And thou deere flesh, as soft as wooll new drest,
And yet as hard as Brawne made hard by art.
S. Phil. Sidney.
Poeticall comparisons. Beautie.

As that fayre starre the messenger of morne
His dewy face out of the sea doth reare,
Or as the Ciprian Goddesse newly borne
Of the Oceans fruitfull froth did first appeare,
Such seemed they, and so theyr yellow haire,
Christalline humour dropped downe apace.
Edm. Spencer.

As when faire Cinthia in a darksome night
Is in a noyous clowde enuoloped,
where she may finde the substance thin and light,
Breakes forth her siluer beames, and her bright head
Discovers to the world discomfited:
Of the poore travailer that went astray,
with thousand blessings she is hurried,
Such was the beauty and the shining ray
With which fayre Britomart gave light unto the day.
Idem.

Looke how the crowne which Ariadne wore
Vpon her juory forhead that same day
That Theseus her unto his bridall bore,
when the bold Centaures made that bloody fray
with the fierce Lapiths that did them dismay,
Beeing now placed in the firmament,
Through the bright heaven doth her beames display,
And is unto the starres an ornament
which round about her move in order excellent,
Such was the beauty of this goodly band.
Idem.

Euen as a stage set forth with pompe and pride,
Where men doe cunning and theyr arte bestow,
When curtaines be remooved that all did hide,
Maketh by light of torch a glistering show:
Or as the sunne that in a clowde did bide,
when that is gone, doth cleerer seeme to grow:
So Bradamant when as her head was barest,
Her colour and her bea•••e seemed rarest.
S. I. Harr. transl.

As when fayre Ver dight in her flowrie raile,
In her new coloured liverie decks the earth,
And glorious Titan spreds his sun-shine vaile
To bring to passe her tender infants birth:
Such was her beauty which I then possest,
With whose imbracings all my youth was blest.
M. Drayton.

Looke how a Comet at the first appearing
Drawes all mens eyes with wonder to behold it,
Or as the saddest tale at suddaine hearing,
•lakes silent listning unto him that told it,
So did the blazing of my blush appeare,
To maze the world, that holds such sights so deere.
S. Daniell.

Euen as when gaudie Nimphs pursue the chace,
wretched Ixions shaggy-footed race
Incenst with savage heate gallop a maine
From steeppine-bearing mountaines to the plaine,
So ran the people forth to gaze upon her,
And all that viewd her, were inamourd on her.
C. Marlow.

Like as an horse when he is barded haile,
And feathered pannache set upon his head,
Will make him seeme more brave for to assaile
The enemie, he that the troope dois lead,
And pannach on his helme will set indeid:
Euen so had nature to decore her face,
Given her one top for to augment her grace.
Rex. Sco.

Like as a Taper burning in the darke,
(As if it threatned every watchfull eye
That burning viewes it) makes that eye his marke,
And hurles guild darts at it continually:
Or as it enuyed any eye but it
Should see in darknes: so my mistres beautie,
From forth her secret stand my hart doth hit,
And like the dart of Cephalus doth kill
Her perfect lover, though she meane no ill.
G. Chapman.

Now as when heaven is mufled with the vapours,
His long since iust divorced wife the earth
In enuy breaths, to maske his spurry tapers
From the unrich aboundance of her birth,
When straight the Westerne issue of the ayre
Beats with his floury wings those brats of dearth,
And gives Olympus leave to show his fayre,
So fled the offended shadowes of her cheere,
And shewd her pleasant countenaunce ful as cleere.
Idem.
Dalliance.

Euen as an emptie Eagle sharpe by fast,
Tires with her beake on feather, flesh and bone,
Shaking her wings, devouring all in hast,
Till eyther gorge be stuft, or pray be gone,
Euen so she kist his brow, his cheeke, his chin,
And where she ends, she doth anew begin.
W. Shakespeare.

— Looke how close the juy doth embrace
The tree or branch about the which it growes,
So close the lovers couched in that place,
Each drawing in the breath the other blowes:
But how great ioyes they found that little space,
Well we may gesse, but none for certaine knowes,
Such was theyr sport, so well theyr leere they couth,
That oft they had two tongues within one mouth.
S. I. Harr.

Like as the wanton juie with his twine,
When as the Oake his rootlesse body warmes,
The straightest saplings strictly doe combine,
Clipping the wood with his lascivious armes:
Such our imbraces when our sport begins,
Lapt in our armes like Ledaes lovely twins.
M. Drayton.

Euen as faire Castor when a calme begins,
Beholding then his starry-tressed brother,
With mirth and glee these swan-begotten twins,
Presaging ioy the one imbrace the other:
Thus one the other in our armes we fold,
Our breasts for ioy our harts could scarcely hold.
Idem.

— As when jove at once from East to West
Cast off two Eagles to discerne the fight
Of this worlds centre, both his birds joind brest
In Cynthian Delphos, since Earths navill height:
So casting off my ceaselesse thoughts to see
My harts true centre, all doe meete in thee.
G. Chapman.

Like as a well-tunde Lute that's tucht with skill
In musicks language sweetly speaking plaine,
When every string it selfe it selfe with sound doth fill,
Taking theyr times, and giving them againe,
A diapazon heard in every straine;
So theyr affections set in keyes so like,
Still fall in consort as theyr humors strike.
M. Drayton.
Sorrow.

A downe his cheekes the teares so flowes
As doth the streame of many springs:
So thunder rends the clowdes in twaine,
And makes a passage for the raine.
M. Roydon.

As through an arch the violent roring tide
Out-runnes the eye that doth behold his hast,
Yet in the Edie boundeth in his pride
Backe to the straite that forced him so fast,
In rage sent out, recald in rage being past:
Euen so his sighes, his sorrowes make a saw,
To push greefe on, and back the same greefe draw.
W. Shakespeare.

— The storme so rumbled in her breast
As Eolus could never roare the like,
And showres downe rained from her eyes so fast
That all bedrent the place, till at the last
Well eased they the dolour of the minde,
As rage of raine doth swage the stormie wind.
M. Sackuile.

As in September when our yeere resignes
The glorious sunne unto the watry signes,
which through the clowdes lookes on the earth in scorne,
The little bird yet to salute the morne
Vpon the naked branches sets her foote,
The leaves now lying on the mossie roote:
And there a silly chiriping doth keepe,
As though she faine would sing, yet faine would weepe,
Praysing faire Sommer that too soone is gone,
Or mourning winter, too fast comming on,
In this sad plight I mourne for thy returne.
M. Drayton.

As when the fatall bird of augurie
Seeing a stormie dismall clowde arise
within the South, foretells with pittious cry
The weeping tempest that on suddaine hies,
So the poore soule, in view of his disdaine,
Began to descant on her future paine.
D. Lodge.

All like as Hecuba fell raging mad,
with griefe of minde and sorrow sore oppressed,
To see her Polydorus little lad
By fraud of his kinsman unkind distressed,
So raved Olympia fayre.
J. Harrington.

The raging pang remained still within,
That would have burst out all at once so fast,
Euen so we see the water tarry in
A bottle little mouthed and big in wast,
That though you topsie-turnie turne the brim,
The licour bides behind with too much hast,
And with the striving oft is in such taking,
As scant a man may yet it out with shaking.
Idem.
Sorrow.

As one that saw in Aprill or in May
A pleasant garden full of fragrant flowers,
Then when the earth new clad in garments gay
Decks every wood and grove with pleasant bowers,
Comming againe on some Decembers day,
And sees it mard with winters stormes and showers,
So did the Court to Bradamant appeare,
When as she saw Rogero was not there.
I. Harr.

As gorgious Phaebus in his first uprise,
Discovering now his scarlet-coloured head,
By troublous motions of the lowring skies,
His glorious beames with fogs are over-spred
So are his cheerfull browes ecclipst with sorrow,
which clowd the shine of his youths smiling morrow
M. Drayton.

Like as when Phaebus darting forth his rayes,
Glydeth along the swelling Ocean streames,
And whilst one billow with another playes
Reflecteth backe his bright translucent beames:
Such was the conflict then betwixt our eyes ▪
Sending forth lookes as teares do fall and rise.
Idem.

Like to a vessell with a narrow vent,
Which is fild up with licour to the top,
Although the mouth be after downeward bent,
Yet is it seene not to distill a drop;
Euen thus our breast brimful with pensive care,
Stopping our tongues, with greefe we silent are.
Idem.

As the high Elme (when his deare Vine hath twind
Fast in her hundred armes and holds imbrast)
Beares downe to earth his spouse and darling kind
If storme or cruell steele the tree downe cast,
And her full grapes to nought doth bruze and grind,
Spoyles his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last,
And seemes to mourne and die, not for his owne,
But for the death of her that lyes orethrowne:
So fell he mourning ▪ mourning for the dame
Whom life and death had made for ever his.
E. Fairefax.

As when a foggy mist hath over-cast
The face of heaven, and the cleere ayre ingrost,
The world in darknes dwells, till that at last
The watry South-wind from the Sea-bord coast
Vp blowing doth disperse the vapours lost,
And powres it selfe it selfe forth in a stormie showre:
So the fayre Britomart having disclost
Her cloudy care into a wrathfull stowre,
The midst of greefe dissolued into vengeance powre.
Edm. Spen.

— As a stroke given on the righter eye
Offends the left, even so by simpathy
Her husbands dolours made her hart unglad,
And judiths sorrowes made her husband sad.
T. Hudson.
Dissimulation.

As when a wearie travailer that straies
By muddy shore of broad seaven-mouthed Nile,
Vnwitting of the perilous wandring wayes
Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile,
which in false greefe hiding his harmefull guile,
Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares:
The foolish man that pitties all the while
His mournfull plight, is swallowed up unwares,
Forgetfull of his owne that minds anothers cares:
So wept Duessa untill eventide.
Edm. Spencer.

As cunning singers ere they straine on hie
In loude melodious tunes theyr gentle voyce,
Prepare the hearers eares to harmonie
With fainings sweet, low notes, and warbles choyce:
So she, not having yet forgot pardie
Her wonted shifts and sleights in Cupids toyes,
A sequence first of sighes and sobs forth cast,
To breede compassion deere, then spake at last.
Ed. Fairefax.

As guilefull Goldsmith that by secret skill
with golden foyle doth finely over-spred
Some baser mettle, which commend he will
Vnto the vulgar for good gold indeed,
He much more goodly glosse thereon doth shed
To hide his falshood, then if it were true:
So hard this Idole was to be ared,
That Florimell her selfe her selfe in all mens view
Shee seemd to passe, so forged things do fairest shew,
Edm. Spencer.

As when two sunnes appeare in th'azure skie,
Mounted in Phaebus Chariot fierie bright,
Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye,
And both adornd with lamps of flaming light:
All that behold so strange prodigious sight,
Nor natures work them gesse, nor what to weene,
Are rapt with wonder, and with rare affright,
So stoode Sir Marinell when he had seene
The semblance of this false by this faire beauties queene.
Idem.
Love.

As men tormented with a burning feaver
Dreame that with drinke they swage their greevous thirst,
But when they wake they feele theyr thirst persever,
And to be greater then it was at first:
So shee whose thoughts frō love sleepe could not sever,
Dreamt of that thing for which she wake did thirst:
But waking, felt and found it as before,
Her hope still lesse, and her desire still more.
S. I. Harr.

The man that dwells farre North hath sildome harme
With blast of winters winde or nypping frost:
The Negro sildome feeles himselfe too warme,
If he abide within his native coast:
So love in mee a second nature is,
And custome makes me thinke my woes are blisse.
Tho. Watson.

The Harpie byrds that did in such despight
Greeve and annoy old Phineus so sore,
Were chasde away by Calais in fight,
And by his brother Zeth for evermore:
who followed untill they heard on hie,
A voyce that said; ye twins no farther flie.
Phineus I am that so tormented was,
My Laura heere I may a Harpie name,
My thoughts and lusts be sonnes to Boreas,
Which never ceast in following my dame,
Till heavenly grace sayd unto me at last,
Leave fond delights, and say thy love is past.
Idem.

All as the greedy fisher layes his hookes
Alongst the coast to catch some mighty fish,
More for his gaine, then wholsome for the dish
Of him that bvies: even so these sisters brave,
Have lovers more then honest maydens have ▪
Tho. Hudson.

— As when mightie Macedon had wonne
The Monarchie of earth, yet when he fainted,
Greeved that no greater action could be done,
And that there no more worlds was to subdue,
So loves defects, loves conquerour did rve.
Edm. Spencer.

Looke as the faire and fiery-poynted sunne
Rushing from forth a clowde bereaves our sight,
Euen so the curtaine drawne, his eyes begun
To winke, beeing blinded with a greater light.
W. Shakespeare.

Like as in furie of a dreadfull fight,
Theyr fellowes being slaine, or put to flight,
Poore souldiours stand with feare of death dead strooken,
So at her presence all surprizd and tooken,
Await the sentence of her scornefull eyes;
He whom she favours lives, the other dies.
C. Marlow.
Feare.

Like as a Hinde forth singled from the heard
That hath escaped from a ravenous beast,
Yet flies away, of her owne feete afrayd,
And every leafe that shaketh with the least
Murmure of windes, her terror hath increast,
So fled fayre Florimell from her vaine feare.
Edm. Spencer.

— He shakes aloft his Romaine blade,
Which like a Faulchon towring in the skies
Coucheth the foule below with his wings shade,
Whose crooked beake threats, if he mount, he dies:
So under his insulting Fauchion lyes
Harmelesse Lucretia, marking what he tells,
With trembling feare, as foule heares Faulchons bells.
W. Shakespeare.

As the poore frighted Deere that stands at gaze,
Wildly determining which way to flie,
Or one incompast with a winding maze,
That cannot tread the way out readily,
So with her selfe her selfe she growes in mutinie
To live or die which of the twaine were better,
When life is shamed, and deaths reproches better.
Idem.

Like as the Snayle, whose hornes being once hit,
Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with paine,
And there all smoothred up in shade doth sit,
Long after fearing to creepe forth againe:
So at his bloody view her eyes are fled
Into the deepe darke cabbins of her head.
Idem.

As in the night each little fierie sparke
May plainly be discerned with our eyne,
But when the day doth come we then shall marke
That all are dampt and doe no longer shine:
So kindles feare in minde which doubt made darke,
Vntill my sunne in my Horizon shine.
S. I. Harr.

So great a terror in theyr minde was bred
That straight as if with sprites they had beene skard,
This way and that, confusedly they fled,
And left the gates without defence or gard:
As tumults often are at stage plaies bred,
When false reports of sudden fits are heard:
Or when the over-loaden seates doe cracke,
One tumbling downe upon anothers back.
Idem.

Like as in time of Spring the water's warme,
And crowding frogs like fishes there doe swarme,
But with the smallest stone that you can cast
To stirre the streame, theyr crowding staies as fast:
So while judea was in ioyfull dayes,
The constancie of them was worthy praise,
For that in every purpose ye should heare
The praise of God resounding every where:
So that like burning candles they did shine,
Among theyr faithfull flock, like men divine,
But looke how soone they heard of Holoferne,
Theyr courage quaild, and they began to derne.
T. Hudson.
Of Flight.

Looke how a purple flower doth fade and die
That painefull ploughman cutteth up with share,
Or as the Poppies head aside doth lye
When it the body can no longer beare:
So did the noble Dardanello die,
And with his death fild all his men with feare:
As waters runne abroade that breake theyr bay
So fled his souldiours, breaking theyr aray.
S. I. Harr.

As the swift Vre by Volgaes rolling flood
Chasde through the plaine the mastife curres to-forne,
Flies to the succour of some neighbour wood,
And often turnes againe his dreadfull horne
Against the dogs, imbrude in sweat and blood
That bite not till the beast to flight returne:
Or as the Moores at theyr strange tennis runne
Defenst, the flying balls unhurt to shunne,
So ranne Clorinda, so her foes pursude.
Ed. Fairefax.

Like as a Lyon whose imperiall power
A proude rebellious Vnicorne defies,
To avoyd the rash assault and wrathfull stowre
Of his fierce foe, him for a tree applies,
And when in running in full course he spies,
He slips aside, the whilst that furious beast
His precious horne sought of his enemies
Strikes in the stock, ne thence can be releast,
But to the mighty victor yeelds a bounteous feast,
With such fayre flight him Guion often foyld.
Edm. Spencer.
Errour.

As when old father Nilus gins to swell
With timely pride above th'Egyptian vale,
His fatty waves doe fertile shine out well,
And over-flow each plaine, and lowly dale,
But when his later ebbe gins to availe,
Huge heapes of mud he leaves, wherein there breed
Ten thousand kinde of creatures, partly male,
And partly female, of his fruitfull seede,
Such ugly monstrous shapes elswhere may no man re•
Ed. Spen. compard to Errors vomit.
Of Rage.

As savage Bull whom two fierce mastives bait,
When rancor doth with rage him once ingore,
Forgets with warie ward them to await
But with his dreadfull hornes them drives afore,
Or flings aloft, or treads downe in the floore,
Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine,
That all the forrest quakes to heare him rore,
So ragde Prince Arthur twixt his foe-men twaine,
That neither could his mighty pvissance sustaine.
Edm Spen.

Looke what a noyse an heard of savage swine
Doe make, when as the Wolfe a pig doth take
That doth in all theyr hearings cry and whine,
Flocking about as nature hath them taught:
So doe these souldiours murmure and repine
To see theyr Captaine thus to mischiefe brought:
And with great fury they doe set upon him,
All with one voyce, still crying on him, on him.
I. Harr.

As when within the soft and spungie soyle
The winde doth pierce the intrailes of the earth,
Where hurly bu•ly with a restlesse coyle,
Shakes all the centre, wanting issue forth,
Tell with the tumour townes & mountaines tremble,
Euen such a meteor doth theyr rage resemble.
M. Drayton.

As when a Comet farre and wide descride
In scorne of Phaebus midst bright heaven doth shine,
And tydings sad of death and mischiefe brings,
So shond the Pagan in bright armour clad,
And rold his eyes.
Ed. Fairefax.

Like as a Bull when prickt with iealousie,
He spies the rivall of his hote desire,
Through all the fields doth bellow, rore, and cry,
And with his thundring voyce augments his ire:
And threatning battaile to the emptie skie,
Teares with his horne each plant, each bush, each brier,
And with his foote cast's up his hand on hight,
Defying his strong foe to deadly fight,
Such was the Pagans fury, such his cry.
Idem.

Like as a Goshauke that in foote doth beare
A trembling Culuer, having spyde on hight
An Eagle that with plumy wings doth sheare
The subtile ayre, stooping with all his might
The quarry throwes to ground with fell despight,
And to the battaile doth herselfe prepare:
So ranne the Giantesse unto the fight;
Her fiery eyes with furious sparks did stare,
And with blasphemous bans, high God in peeces tar•
Edm. Spencer.

As Lyons meete, or Bulls in pastures greene
With teeth and hornes, and staine with blood the field,
Such eager fight these warriours was betweene,
And eythers speare had peirst the others shield.
I. Harr.

Like as with equall rage, and equall might
Two aduerse windes combate with billowes proud,
And neyther yeeld, seas, skies maintaine like fight,
Wave against wave opposd, and clowde to clowde,
So warre both sides with obstinate despight,
With like revenge, and neither partie bowd,
Fronting each other with confounding blowes,
No wound one sword unto the other owes.
Sam. Daniell.

With equall rage as when the Southerne-winde
Meeteth in battaile through the Northerne blast,
The sea and ayre to weather is resignde
But clowd gainst clowd, & wave gainst wave they past:
So from this skirmish neither part declind,
But fought it out, and keepes theyr footings fast,
And oft with furious shock together rush,
And shield gainst shield, & helme gainst helme they crush.
Ed. Fairefax. transl.

Such was theyr furie as when Boreas teares
The shattered crags from Taurus Northerne clift,
Vpon theyr helmes theyr Launces long they broke,
And up to heaven flew splinters, sparks, & smoake.
Idem.

As when two Tygers prickt with hungers rage
Have by good fortune found some beasts fresh spoile,
On which they weene theyr famine to asswage,
And gaine a feastfull guerdon of theyr toyle,
Both falling out, doe stirre up strifefull broyle,
And cruell battaile twixt themselues doe make,
Whilst neither lets the other touch the soile
But eyther sdeignes with other to pertake,
So cruelly those Knights strove for that Ladies sake.
Edm. Spencer.

From out his fearefull eyes two fierie beames
More sharpe then poynts of needles did proceed,
Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames
Full of sad power that poysonous baite did breed
To all that within lookt without good heede,
And secretly his enemies did slay:
Like as the Basiliske of Serpents seede
From painfull eyes close venome doth conuay
Into the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.
Idem.

As when a Dolphin and a Sele are met
In the wide champion of the Ocean plaine,
With cruell chafe theyr courages they whet,
The maisterdome of each by force to gaine,
And dreadfull battaile twixt them doe darraine:
They snuffe, they snort, they bounce, they rage, they rore
That all the Sea disturbed with theyr traine
Doth frie with foame above the surges hore,
Such was betwixt these two the troublesome uprore.
Ed. Spencer.

As when the fierie mounted steedes which drew
The sunnes bright waine, to Phactons decay,
Soone as they did the monstrous Scorpions view
With ugly crapples crawling in theyr way,
The sight thereof did them so sore affray,
That their well knowne courses they forewent:
And leading the ever-burning lampe astray,
This lower world nigh all to ashes brent,
And left their scorched path yet in the firmament:
Such was the furie of these head-strong steedes,
Soone as the infants sunlike shield they saw.
Idem.

Like as the cursed sonne of Theseus,
That following his chace in dewie morne,
To flie his stepdames love outragious,
Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne,
And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne,
That for his sake Diana did lament,
And all the woodie Nimphs did waile and mourne:
So was the Soldane rapt and all to rent,
That of his shape appeard no little moniment.
Idem.

Like raging juno, when with knife in hand
Shee threw her husbands murthered infant out,
Or fell Medea when on Colchicke strand
Her brothers bones she scattered round about,
Or as that madding mother mongst the rout
Of Bacchus priests, her owne deere flesh did teare:
Yet neyther juno nor Medea stout,
Nor all the Menades so furious were,
As this bold woman when she saw the damsell there.
Idem.

As the heate hidden in a watry clowde,
Striving for issue with strange murmures loud,
Like gunnes astuns, with round-round-rumbling thunder,
Filling the ayre with noyse, the earth with wonder,
So the three sisters, the three hidious rages,
Raise thousand stormes, leaving th'infernall stages.
I. Siluester.
Pittie. Curtesie.

Shee pittious nurse applyde her painfull thought
To serue and nourish them that her up-brought;
Like to the gratefull Storke, that gathereth meate,
And brings it to her elders for to eate.
And on a Firre-tree high, with Boreas blowne
Gives life to those of whom she had her owne.
Th. Hudson.

As the bright sunne what time his fierie teame
Toward the Westerne brim begins to draw,
Gins to abate the brightnes of his beame,
And feruor of his flames somewhat adaw,
So did this mighty Lady when she saw
Those two strange Knights such homage to her make,
Bate somewhat of her maiestie and awe
That whilom wont to doe so many quake,
And with more milde aspect those two to entertake.
Edm. Spen.

As when the Southerne winde with luke-warme blast
Breathing on hills where winter long had dwelt
Dissolues the rocks of Ice that hung so fast,
And all the new made mounts of snow doth melt:
So with this gentle prayer, though spoke in hast,
The damsell such an inward motion felt
That suddainly her armed hart did soften,
As unto women-kinde it chaunceth often.
S. I. Harr.

Like as the winde stopt by some wood or hill
Growes strong & fierce, teares bowes & trees in twaine,
But with mild blasts more temperate gentle still
Against the rocks as sea-waves murmure shrill
But silent passe amid the open maine:
Rinaldo so when none his force with-stood,
Asswagde his furie, calmd his angry moode.
Idem.
Courage.

As when two Rammes stird with ambitious pride
Fight for the rule of the rich-fleeced flock,
Theyr horned fronts so fierce on eyther side
Doe meete, that with the terror of the shock
Astonied, both stand sencelesse as a block
Forgetfull of the hanging victorie:
So stoode these twaine unmoved as a rock,
Both staring fierce, and holding ielely
The broken reliques of their former crueltie.
Edm. Spencer.

Above the waves as Neptune lift his eyes
To chyde the windes that Troyan ships opprest,
And with his countenaunce calmd seas, winds & skies,
So lookt Rinaldo when he shooke his crest.
S. I. Harr.

When the ayre is calme and still, as dead and deafe,
And under heaven quakes not an Aspen leafe,
When seas are calme, and thousand vessels fleet
Vpon the sleeping seas with passage sweet,
And when the variant wind is still and lowne
The cunning Pilot never can be knowne;
But when the cruell storme doth threat the barke
To drowne in deeps of pits infernall darke,
While tossing teares both ruther, mast and saile,
While mounting, seemes the azure skies to scale,
While drives perforce upon some deadly shore,
There is the Pilot knowne, and not before.
Th. Hudson.

As a tall shippe tossed in troubled seas,
Whom raging windes threatning to make theyr pray
Of the rough rocks doe diversly disease
Meets two contrary billowes by the way
That her on eyther side doth sore assay,
And boast to swallow her in greedy grave;
Shee scorning both their spights, doth make wide way,
And with her breast breaking the foamie wave,
Doth ride on both their backs, and faire herselfe doth save,
So boldly he him beares.
Ed. Spen.

As when a shyp that flies farre under sayle
A hidden rocke escaped hath unwares,
That lay in waite her wrack for to bewaile,
The Mariner yet halfe amazed stares
At perrill past, and yet in doubt, ne dares
To ioy at his foole-hardie over-sight:
So doubly is distrest twixt ioy and feares
The dreadlesse courage of this Elsin Knight.
Edm. Spen.
Maiestie. Pompe.

Looke as great Cinthia in her siluer Carre
Rides in her progresse round about her sphere,
Whose tendance is the faire eye-dazeling starres
Trooping about her Chariot, that with cleere
And glorious showes makes every eye delight
To gaze upon the beautie of the night,
Clad and attended with the worlds delight,
So is the Queene in maiestie brought forth.
Chr. Middleton.

Like trident-maced Neptune in his pride,
Mounted upon a Dolphin in a storme,
Vpon the tossing billowes forth doth ride,
About whose traine a thousand Tritons swarme:
When Phaebus seemes to set the waves on fire,
To shew his glory, and the Gods desire:
Or like unto the fiery-faced sunne,
Vpon his wagon prauncing in the West,
Whose blushing cheekes with flames seeme over-runne
Whilst sweating thus he gallops to his rest:
Such was the glory wherein now I stood,
Which makes the Barons sweat theyr deerest blood.
M. Drayton.

As stately Thames inricht with many a flood
And goodly rivers that have made their graves
And buried both theyr names and all theyr good
within his greatnes to augment his waves,
Glides on with pompe of waters unwithstood
Vnto the Ocean, which his tribute craves,
And layes up all his wealth within that powre,
which in it selfe it selfe all greatnes doth devoure:
So flockt the mightie with theyr following traine
Vnto the all-receaving Bullenbrooke.
S. Daniell.

Then thou on thine imperiall Chariot set
Crownd with a rich imperled Coronet,
Whilst the Parisian dames as thy traine past
Theyr precious incense in aboundance cast:
As Cynthia from the wave-embateled shrowdes
Opening the west, comes streming through the clowds,
With shining troopes of siluer-tresled starres
Attending on her as her Torch-bearers,
And all the lesser lights about her throne,
With admiration stand as lookers on,
Whilst she alone in height of all her pride
The Queene of light along her spheare doth glide.
M. Drayton.
Civill warres.

Euen like to Rheine which in his birth opprest
Strangled almost with rocks and mighty hills,
Workes out away to come to better rest,
Warres with the Mountaines, strives against their wills,
Brings forth his streames in unitie profest
Into the quiet bed he proudly fills,
Carrying the greatnes which he cannot keepe,
Vnto his death and buriall in the deepe:
So did the worlds proude Mistres Rome at first
Strive with an hard beginning, ward with neede,
Forcing her strong confiners to the worst,
And in her blood her greatnes first did breede:
So Spaine at home with Moores ere forth it burst,
Did practise long, and in it selfe it selfe did bleed:
So did our state begin with her owne wounds
To try her strength, ere it enlargd her bounds.
Sam. Daniell.

Like as an exhalation hote and dry
Amongst the ayre-bred moistie vapours throwne
Spetteth his lightning forth couragiously,
Renting the thicke clowdes with a thunder-stone,
As though the huge all-covering heaven did grone,
Such is the garboyle of this conflict then,
Brave Englishmen encountring Englishmen.
M. Drayton.

Like as a clowde foule, darke and ugly black,
Threatning the earth with tempest every howre,
Now broken with a fearefull thunder-crack,
Straight powreth downe his deepe earth-drenching showre,
Thus for theyr wrongs now rise they up in armes,
Or to revenge, or to amend theyr harmes.
Idem.
Death.

Then downe he tumbled like an aged tree,
High growing on the top of rockie clift,
Whose hart-strings with keene steele nigh hewen be,
The mighty trunck halfe rent with ragged rift,
Doth rolle adowne the rocks, & falls with fearfull drift.
Edm. Spencer.

Or as a Castle reared high and round,
By subtile engins and malicious slight
Is undermined from the lowest ground,
And her foundations forst and feebled quite,
At last downe falls, and with her heaped hight
Her hastie rvine doth more heavie make,
And yeelds it selfe it selfe unto the victors might,
Such was this Giants fall.
Idem.

As when two billowes in the Irish sounds
Forcibly driven with contrary tydes
Doe meete together, each aback rebounds
With roring rage, and dashing on all sides
That filleth all the sea with foame, devides
The doubtfull current into divers waves,
So fell these two in spight of both theyr prides.
Idem.
Hope.

Like as through Tagus faire transparent streames
The wandring Marchant sees the sandy gold,
Or like as Cynthias halfe obscured beames
In silent night the Pilot doth behold
Through mistie clowdes, and vapours manifold,
So through a mirror of my hoped for gaine,
I saw the treasure which I should obtaine.
•h. Storer.

Like as the sunne at one selfe one selfe time is felt
With heate to harden clay, and waxe doth melt,
So Amrams sacred sonne in these proiects,
Made one selfe one selfe cause have two contrary effects;
For Isaack humbly knew theyr Lord divine,
But Pharo more and more did still repine;
Like to the corpslet old, the more tis bet
with hammer hard, more hardnes it doth get.
Th. Hudson.

This ill presage aduisedly she marketh,
Euen as the winde is husht before it raineth,
Or as the Wolfe doth grin before he barketh,
Or as the berry breakes before it staineth,
Or like the deadly bullet of a gunne,
His meaning strooke her ere his words begun.
W. Shakespeare.
Astonishment.

Like as the tiller of the fruitfull ground
with suddaine storme and tempest is astonished ▪
who sees the flash, and heares the thunders sound,
And for their maisters sake the cattell punished:
Or when by hap a faire old Pine he found
By force of raging wind his leaves diminished:
So stood amazd the Pagan in that place,
His Lady present at that wofull case.
I. Harrington.

Euen as a Wolfe by pinching famine led
That in the field a carrion beast doth finde,
On which before the doggs and Ravens have fed,
And nothing left but bones and hornes behind,
Stands still and gazeth on the carkasse dead:
So at this sight the Pagan Prince repind,
And curseth oft, and cals himselfe a beast,
For comming tardy to so rich a feast.
Idem.

Like to a man who walking in the grasse
Vpon a Serpent suddenly doth tread,
Plucks backe his foote, and turnes away his face,
His colour fading pale, as he were dead:
Thus he the place ▪ thus he the act doth shun,
Lothing to see what he before had done.
M. Drayton.

Looke how the God of wisedome marbled stands
Bestowing Laurell wreaths of dignitie
In Delphos Ile, at whose impartiall hands
Hang antique scrolles of gentle Herauldry,
And at his feete ensignes and trophies lie,
Such was my state, whom every man did follow,
As living statue of the great Apollo.
Th. Storer.

All as the hungry winter-starued earth,
when she by nature labours towards her birth,
Still as the day upon the darke world creepes
One blossome forth after another peepes,
Till the small flower whose roote is now unbound,
Gets from the frostie prison of the ground,
Spreading the leaves unto the powrefull noone
Deckt in fresh colours, smiles upon the sunne.
Never unquiet care lodge in that brest
Where but one thought of Rosamond did rest.
M. Drayton.
Courage.

Like as a fire the which in hollow cave
Hath long beene under-kept and downe supprest,
With murmure as disdaine doth inly rave,
And grudge in so straite prison to be prest,
At last breakes forth with furious unrest,
And strives to mount unto his native seate:
All that did erst it hinder and molest,
It now devoures with flames and scorching heat,
And carries into smoke, with rage and horror great,
So mightily the Brittaine Prince him rousd
Out of his hold.
Edm. Spencer.

As he that strives to stop a sudden flood
And in strong bands his violence inclose,
Forceth it swell above his wonted moode,
And largely over-flows the fruitfull plaine,
That all the country seemes to be a maine,
And the rich furrowes flote all quite fordone,
The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine
To see his whole yeeres labour lost so soone,
For which to God he made so many an idle boone,
So him he held, and did through might amate.
Idem.

Like as a Saphire hanging downe the breast
A farre more orient glittering doth make,
Then doth a Diamond of good request
Set in a bracelet, and more glory take,
Not for the vertue but the places sake.
So did a clowdy saphire dimme my light,
Not with his worth, but with his places height.
Th. Storer.
Of Adam.

Thou seest no wheat Helleborus can bring,
Nor barly from the madding Morrell spring,
Nor bleating lambes brave lyons do not breed,
That leaprous parents raise a leaprous feed.
Euen so our grandsyre living innocent
Had stockt the whole world with a saint descent.
But suffering sinne in Eden him inuade,
His sonnes the soones of sinne and wrath he made.
I. Syluester.

As done the pots that long retaines the taste
Of licour, such as first was in them plaste:
Or like the tree that bends his elder braunch
That way where first the stroke had made his launch•
So see we wolfes and beares and harts full old,
Some tamenesse from their daunted youth to hold.
Th. Hudson.

— Loves fiery dart
Could nere unfreeze the frost of her chaste hart:
But as the diamond bides the hammer strong,
So she resisted all her suters long.
Idem.
Drunkards.

The more he dranke, the more he did desire,
Like to the Ocean sea, though it receaves
All Nilus flouds, yet all fresh water craves
From East to West, yet growes he not a graine,
But still is ready for as much againe.
Idem.

* The staves like yce in shivers small did flie,
The splints like byrds did mount unto the skie.
M. Drayton.
Ill Companie.

Like as the perfect Pylot feares to runne
Vpon the rocks, with singling sheet doth shunne
Cydnaees straits ot Syrtes sinking sands,
Or cruell Capharois with stormy strands.
So wisely she dishaunted the resort
Of such as were suspect of light report.
Well knowing that the quaintance with the ill
Corrupts the good, and though they ever still
Th. Hudson. Fol. 452.

* Looke how the peacocke ruffes his flanting taile,
And strutts under his mooned canapie:
And how he quivers with his mooned saile,
Yet when his lead pale legs he haps to see,
With shame abates his painted iollitie.
The King as proud as peacocke in his love,
Yet droupes again when words nor tears will move.
M. Drayton.
Night.

Looke how a bright starre shooteth from the skie,
So glides he in the night from Venus eye,
Which after him she darts as on a shore,
Gazing upon a late embarqued frend,
Till the wild waves will have them see no more,
Whose ridges with the meeting cloudes contend.
So did the mercilesse and pitchy night
Fold in the obiect that did feed her sight.
W. Sha.
King.

When as the Sun forsakes his christall spheare,
How darke and ugly is the gloomy skie?
And in his place ther's nothing well appeare,
But cloudes that in his glorious circuit flie.
So when a King forsakes his royall place,
There still succeed oblique and darke disgrace.
Ch. Middleton

Looke how the day hater Mineruaes bird,
Whilest priviledged with darknes and the night:
Doth live secure himselfe of others feard,
But if by chaunce discovered in the light,
O how each little foule with enuy stird,
Calls him to iustice, urges him with spight,
Summons the feathered flocks of all the wood,
To come to scorne the tyrants of their blood,
So fares the King laid open to disgrace.
S. Daniell.

And forth hee's brought unto the accomplishment,
Deckt with the crowne and princely robes that day:
Like as the dead in other lands are sent
Vnto their graves in all their best aray.
And even like good did him this ornament.
For what he brought he must not beare away,
But buries there his glory and his name,
Intombed for evermore in others blame.
Idem.
Companie.

Remaine upright, yet some will quarrell pike,
And common brute will deeme them all alike.
For looke how your companions you elect
For good or ill, so shall you be suspect.
Th. Hudson.
Of Victorie.

Like as whilome that strong Tyranthian swaine
Brought forth with him the dreadfull dog of hell:
Against his will fast bound in yron chaine,
And roring horribly did him compell
To see the hatefull sun, that he might tell
To grisly Pluto what on earth was donne,
And to the other damned ghoasts which dwell
For aye in darknesse, which day-light doth shunne,
So led he forth this captive, and like conquest woone.
Ed. Spencer.

Like as in sommers day when raging heate
Doth burne the earth and boyled rivers drie:
That all brute beasts forste to refraine from meate
Do hunt for shade where shrowded they may lie.
And missing it, faine from themselues to flie
All travailers tormented are with paine:
A mightie cloud doth overcast the skie,
And powreth forth a suddaine showre of raine,
That all the wretched world recomforteth againe.
So did the warlike Britomart restore
The prize of knights of mayden-head that day.
Idem.

As when a troupe of haruest thrifty swaines
With cutting sythes earth ripened riches mowes,
Whole sheaves of corne lye strowen upon the plaines.
So fall the Scots before the conquering foes.
D. Lodge.
Death.

On Appenine like as a sturdy tree
Against the windes that makes resistance stout:
If with a storme it overturned bee,
Falles downe and breakes the trees and plants about:
So Latine fell, and with him felled hee,
And slew the nearest of the Pagan rout.
Ed. Fairfax.

Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands
With gilden hornes and flowry girlonds crownd:
Proud of his dying honour and deare bands,
Whilest Theaters fume with frankensence around,
All suddenly with mortall stroke astoind,
Doth grovelling fall, and with his steaming gore
Distaines the pillers and the holy ground.
And the faire flowers that decked him afore,
So fell proud Marinell upon the precious shore.
Ed. Spencer.

Like as a shippe whom cruell tempest drives
Vpon a rocke with horrible dismay,
Her shattered ribbes in thousand peeces rives,
And spoyling all her geares and goodly ray,
Does make her selfe her selfe misfortunes piteous pray.
So downe the cliffe the wretched giant tombled.
Idem.

Like an autumall starre which ruddy doth foreshewe
Some death, some pestilence, some bloudy overthrowe
He buskles with his foe, the assailant he assaults,
And resolute he markes his arrowes weake defaults.
Then entring in betweene his brest plate and his bases,
He seeks his sinful soule, there finds, & thence it chases.
I. Syl.
Fight.

Like as two mastiffe dogs with hungry iawes,
Moved first to hate, from hate to raging ire:
Approach with grinning teeth and grisly iawes,
With staring eyes as red as flaming fire.
At last they bite and scratch with teeth and clawes,
Tearing themselues, and trembling in the mire.
So after biting and reproachfull words,
Sarcapant and Rinaldo drew their swords.
Ed. Spencer.

Like as an exhalation hot and drie,
Amongst the aire bred moisty vapours throwne
Spilleth his lightening forth couragiously,
Renting the thick clouds with a thunder-stone,
As though the huge all covering heaven did grone.
Such is the garboyle of this conflict then,
Brave English men encountring English men.
M. Drayton.

Like as ye see the wallowing sea to strive
Flood after flood, and wave with wave to drive:
Thē waves with waves, thē floods with floods to chace,
And eft returnes unto their former place.
Or like the crops of corne in midst of May,
(Blowne up with westerne wind) aside do sway,
Both too and fro as force doth them constraine,
And yet their tops redresseth up againe.
So whiles the Sirians are by Medes displaced,
And whiles the Medes by Syrians are rechaced.
Th. Hudson.

Like as a puttock having spied in sight
A gentle faulchon sitting on a hill,
Whose other wing now made unmeet for flight,
Was lately broken by some fortune ill.
The foolish kite led with licentious will,
Doth beat upon the gentle byrd in vaine,
With many idle stoopes her troubling still.
Euen so did Radagond with bootlesse paine,
Annoy this noble knight, and sorely him constraine.
Ed. Spencer.

Euen as an Eagle that espies from hie,
Among the hearbes a partie coloured snake:
Or on a banke sunning her selfe her selfe to lie,
Casting the elder skin, anew to make
Lies hovering warily till she may spie
Aduantage sure the venomd worme to take:
Then takes him by the backe and beats her wings,
Maugre the poyson of his forked stings,
So doth Rogero both with sword and speare,
The cruell monster warily assaile.
S. I. Harr.

Like as a mountaine or a cape of land,
Assaild with stormes, and sailes on every side
Doth unremoved stedfast still withstand,
Storme, thunder, lightning, tempest, wind and tide.
The Souldan so withstood Latinus band.
Ed. Fairfax.

So thicke flew flouds and darts that no man sees
The azurde heavens, the sunne his brightnes lost:
The cloudes of weapons like to swarmes of bees
Met in the aire, and there each other crost.
And looke how falling leaves drop downe from trees
When the moyst sappe is mixt with lively frost,
Or apples in strong windes from braunches fall,
The Sarazens so tumbled from the wall.
Idem.

As when a windy tempest bloweth hie,
That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre,
The cloudes as things afraid before him flie,
But all so soone as his outragious power
Is laid, they fairly then begin to showre,
And as in storme of his spent stormy spight,
Now all at once their malice forth do powre.
So did Sir Guion beare himselfe in fight,
And suffered rash Pirrocles want his idle might.
Ed. Spencer.

As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean wave,
Where he hath left his plumes all hoary gray,
And deckt himselfe with feathers youthly gay,
Like Eyas hauke upmounting to the skies,
His newly budded pinions to assay,
And maruells at himselfe still as he flies,
So new, this newborne knight to battle did arise.
Idem.

As gentle shepheard in sweete even-tide,
When ruddy Phoebus gins to walke in west,
He on an hill his flocke to viewen wide,
Markes which do bite his heartie supper best.
A cloud of combrous gnats do him molest,
All striving to infixe their feeble stings,
That from their noyance, he no where can rest,
But with his clownish hands their tender wings
He brusheth off, and oft doth marre their murmurings.
Ed. Sp.

— They him espying, both with greedie force
At once upon him ranne, and him beset
With stroakes of mortall steele, without remorse,
And on his shield like Iron sledges bet,
As when a Beare and Tigre being met,
In cruell fight on Libicke Ocean wide,
Espide a traveller with feet surbet,
Whom they in equall pray hope to devide,
They stint their strife, and him assaile on every side.
Ed. Spencer.
Of noise. Clamour.

As great a noise as when in Cymbrian plaine,
An heard of bulls, whom kindly rage doth sting,
Do for the milky mothers want complaine,
And fill the fields with troublous bellowing,
The neighbor woods around with hollow murmuring.
Ed. Sp.

As when the shapelesse huge Leviaethan
Hath thrust himselfe upon the sandie shore,
Where (monsterlike) affrighting every man,
He belloweth out a fearefull deadly rore.
Euen such a Clamour through the aire doth thunder,
The dolefull presage of some fearefull wonder.
M. Drayton.
joy.

Much like as when the beaten marriner
That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide,
Oft sowest in swelling Tethis saltish teare,
And Long time having tamde his tawnie hide,
With blustering breath of heaven that none can bide,
And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound,
Soone as the port from far he hath espide,
His chearefull whistle merily doth sound,
And Nereus crownes with cups, his mates him pledge around,
Such joy made Vna when her knight she found.
Ed. Spencer.

Looke how a troupe of winter prisoned dames,
Pent in the inclosure of the walled townes,
Welcomes the spring usher to sommers flames,
Making their pas•imes on the flowry downes,
Whose beautious Arras wrought in natures frames,
Through eies admire, the heart with wonder crownes.
So these wood-walled citizens at sea,
Welcome be both spring and sommer in a day.
I. Markham.

Like as a ship with dreadfull storme long tost,
Having spent all her masts and her ground hold,
Now farre from harbour, like to be lost,
At last some fisher barke doth neare betold,
That giveth comfort to her courage cold:
Such was the state of this most knight.
Ed. Spencer.
Pollicie.

As when to purge excessive moist descending,
From Saturns spheare, or else superfluous heate,
jove stird up by Mars (common good entending)
Sends lightning flash to lay their angry threate.
So wiser heads that knew the scourge of warre,
Sought sooth fast meanes to mitigate the iarre.
D. Lodge.

As when a skilfull marriner doth read
A storme approaching that doth perill threate,
He will not bide the danger of such dread,
Bur strikes his sailes and vereth his manisheat,
And lends unto it leave the emptie aire to beate:
So did the faiery knight himselfe abeare.
Ed. Spencer.

As Pilot well expert in perillous wave,
That to a steadfast starre his course hath bent,
When foggy mists or cloudie tempests have,
The faithfull light of that faire lampy blent,
And covered heaven with hidious dreriment,
Vpon his card and compasse formes his eie,
The maisters of his long experiment.
And to them does the steddie helme applie,
Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward flie.
So Guion.
Ed. Spencer.
Labour.

Like as ye see sometimes the honey bees,
Exerce themselues on buds of sweetest tree,
Where they sometime assault the buzzing waspe,
That come too neare, their flames away to claspe.
Or when they honey draw from smelling time,
Or from the palme or roses of the prime,
And how they draw their waxe with wondrous art,
Obseruing jointure iust in every part:
Both up and downe, they bvild ten thousand shops,
With equall space fulfild up to the tops.
Or where the maister Bee of thousand bands,
Conducts the rest in legions through the lands,
Who daily keepes within their Citie wall,
Their house, their worke, their lawes, and maners all.
So thus the sonnes of jacob plide their paine,
With whole desire their quarell to sustaine.
Th. Hudson.

As do those Emmets that in sommer tide
Come out in swarmes their houses to provide,
In haruest time (their toile may best be seene,
In pathes where they their carriage bring betweene,
The sicke and old at home do keepe the score,
And over grainell great they take the charge,
Oft turning corne within a chamber large,
(When it is dight) least it do sprout or seed,
Or come againe, or we eulls in it breed.
While the Armorers with armour hard and great,
On studies strong the sturdie steele do beate,
And makes thereof, a corpslet or a jacke,
Sometime a helme, sometime a mace doth make,
Whiles shepheards they enarme unusde to danger,
Whiles simple heards, & whiles the wandring stranger
The tilling culter then a speare was made,
The crooked Sithe became an evened blade:
The people foode forgets, no ease they take,
Some on an horse, some on his proper backe,
Some on a cart, some on a camell beares
Corne, wine, and flesh, to serue for many yeares.
Th. Hudson.
Warre.

Like to a river that is stopt his course,
Doth violate his bankes, breakes his owne head.
Destroyes his bounds, and overruns by force
The neighbour fieldes, in regularly spread.
Euen so this sudden stop of Warre doth nurse
Home toiles within it selfe it selfe from others lead,
So daungerous the chaunge thereof is tried,
Ere mindes come soft, or otherwise imploide.
S. Daniell.
Astonishment

As when the mast of some well timbred hulke,
Is with the blast of some outragious storme
Blowne downe, it shakes the bottome of the bulke,
And makes her ribs to cracke as they were torne,
Whilest still she stands astonisht and forlorne:
So was he stound with stroake of her huge taile.
Ed. Spencer.

— Lying still a while both did forget,
The perillous present stownd wherein their lives were set,
As when two warlike brigandines at sea,
With murdrous weapons armd in cruell fight,
Do meete together on the watrie Lea.
They stem each other with so fell despight,
That with the shocke of their owne heedlesse might,
Their woodden ribs are shaken right asunder.
They which from shore behold the dreadfull fight
Of flashing fier, and here the Ordinance thunder,
So greatly stand amazed of such unwonted wonder.
Ed. Spencer.
Care of children.

All as the painefull ploughman plies his toile,
With share and culter shearing through the soile
That costs him deare, and ditches it about,
Or crops his hedge to make it undersprout,
And never staies to ward it from the weede,
But most respects to sowe therein good seede:
To th'end when sommer decks the medowes plaine,
He may have recompence of costs and paine.
Or like the maide, who carefull is to keepe
The budding flowre, that first begins to peepe
Out of the knop, and waters it full oft,
To make it seemely shew the head aloft,
That it may (when she drawes it from the stocks)
Adorne her gorget white, and golden locks.
So wise Merari all his studie stild,
To fashion well the maners of his child.
Th. Hudson.
Libertie.

Like to a Lion that escapes his bownds,
Having bene long restraind his use to stray,
Raunges the restlesse woods, staies on no ground.
Riots with bloudshed, wantons with his pray,
Seekes not for need, but in his pride to wound,
Glorying to see his strength, and what he may.
So this unbridled King, freed of his feares,
In libertie himselfe unwildly beares.
S. Daniell.

* Like as the hauke which soareth in the skie,
And climes aloft for solace of her wing,
The greater gate she getteth up on hie,
The truer stoope she makes to any thing:
So shall you see my muse by wandring,
Find out at last the right and ready way,
And keepe it sure, though erst it went astray.
G. Gascoigne.

* Like as the ship that through the Ocean wide
Directs her course, unto one certaine coast,
Is met with many a counterwind and tide,
With which her winged speed is let and crost.
And she her selfe her selfe in stormie surges lost.
Yet making many a boord and many a bay,
Still winneth way, and hath her compast lost.
Right so it fares with me in this long way,
Whose course is often staid, yet never is astray.
Ed. Spencer.

* — As she was looking in a glasse,
She sawe therein a mans face looking on her:
Whereat she started from the frighted glasse,
As if some monstrous serpent had bene shewen her:
Rising as when the sunne in Leo signe,
Auriga with the heavenly goale upon her,
Shewes her hornd head, with her kids divine.
Whose rise kils vines, heavens face with stormes disguising,
No man is safe at sea, the Haedy rising.
So straight wrapt she her body in a cloude,
And threatned tempest for her high disgrace,
Shame from a bowre of Roses did unshrowde,
And spread her crimson wings upon her face.
G. Chapman.
Multitude.

Like when some mastiffe whelpe disposd to play,
A whole confused heard of beests doth chase,
Which with one vile consent runne all away,
If any hardier then the rest in place.
But turne the head that idle feare to stay,
Backe strait the daunted chacer turnes his face:
And all the rest with bold example led,
As fast runne on him as before they fled.
So with this bold opposer rushes on
This many headed monster multitude.
S. Daniell.

As when the daughter of Thaumantes faire
Hath in a watry cloud displaied wide
Her goodly bowe which paints the liquid aire,
That all men wonder at her colours pride:
All suddenly ere one can looke aside,
The glorious picture vanisheth away,
Ne any token doth thereof abide.
So did this Ladies goodly forme decay,
And into nothing goe, ere one could it bewray.
Ed. Spencer.
Beautie.

Like as a tender Rose in open plaine,
That with untimely drought nigh withered was
And hung the head; soone as fewe drops of raine
Thereon distill and deaw her daintie face,
Gins to looke up, and with fresh counted grace
Dispreds the glory of her leaves gaye,
Such was Iraenas countenance, such her grace.
Idem.

Like as the wind and tide when they do meet ▪
With enuious oppositions do affright
The lesser streames running for to regreet
The Ocean Empire, so do these two fight,
One labours to bring all things to his will,
The other cares for to prevent that ill.
Ch. Middleton.
Descriptions of Pallaces, Castles, &c.

A stately Pallace bvilt of squared bricke,
Which cunningly was without morter laid,
Whose walles were high, but nothing strong nor thick,
And golden foyle all over them displaid.
That purest skie with brightnesse they dismaid,
High lifted up were many lofty towres,
And goodly galleries farre overlaid:
Full of fayre windowes and delightfull bowres,
And on the top a dyall told the timely howres.
Ed. Sp.

The soveraigne Castels of the rocky yle,
Wherein Penelope the Princes lay:
Shone with a thousand lampes, which did exile
The dimme darke shades, and turnd the night to day.
Not joves blew tent what time the sunny ray
Behind the bulwarke of the earth retires,
Is seene to sparkle with more sprinkling fires.
I. Davies.
Logistillaes Castle.

— Such a Castle that in stately showe
And costly substance others all surmounted:
The valew of the walles cannot man knowe,
Except he first upon the same had mounted.
Men have not jewels of such price belowe,
Diamonds are to these but drosse accounted.
Pearles are but pelfe, and Rubies all are rotten
Where stones of such rare vertue can be gotten.
These walles are bvilt of stones of so great price,
All other unto these come far behinde,
In these men see the vertue and the vice
That cleaveth to the inward soule and minde,
As neither flattering praises shall him blinde
With tickling words nor undeserued blame,
With forged faults shal worke him any shame:
From hence doth come the everlasting light,
That may with Phaebus beames so cleare compare,
That when the Sunne is downe there is no night
With those that with those jewels stored are.
These gems do teach us to discerne aright.
These gems are wrought with workemanship so rare,
That hard it were to make true estimation
Which is more hard the substance or the fashion.
On arches raisd of Porphorie passing hie,
Were gardens faire, and pleasant to the eie.
So hie, that to ascend them seemd a paine,
Fewe found so rare below upon a plaine.
Sweet smelling trees in order standing bee,
With Fountaines watering them in stead of raine,
Which doth the same so naturally nourish,
As all the yeare both flowers and fruites do flourish.
No weeds or fruitlesse trees are in this place,
But hearbes whose vertues are of chiefest price,
As soveraigne sage, and thrift, and hearbes of grace,
And Tyme, which well bestowed maketh wise:
And lowly patience proud thoughts to abase,
And harts ease that can never grow with vice.
These are the hearbes that in this garden grew,
Whose vertues to their beauties still renew.
S. I. H.

— She then led up to the castle wall
That was so hie as foe might not it clime ▪
And all so faire and sensible withall,
Not bvilt of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime,
But of thing like to that Egyptian slime.
Whereof King Nine whilom bvilt Babell towne,
The frame thereof seemd party circuler,
And part tryangulare, ô worke divine,
Those two the first and last proportions are,
The one imperfect mortall feminine,
The other immortall, perfect masculine.
And twixt them both, a quadrate was the base,
Proportioned equally by seven and nine:
Nine was the circle set in heavens place,
All which compacted, made a goodly Diapaze.
Ed. Spencer.

Vp to a stately Turret she them led,
Ascending by ten steps of Alablaster wrought.
That Turrets frame most admirable was,
Like highest heaven compassed around:
And lifted hie above this earthly masse,
Which it suruewd as hills do lower ground,
But on ground, mote not like to this be found.
Not that which Antique Camus whilom bvilt
In Thebes, which Alexander did confound.
Nor that proud towne of Troy though richly guilt,
From which young Herods blood by cruel Greeks was spilt,
The roofe thereof was arched over head:
And deckt with flowres and arbors daintily,
Two goodly beacons, set in watches stead,
Therein gave light and flamed continually:
For they of living fier most subtilly
Were made and set in siluer socketts bright:
Covered with lids devizde of substance,
That readily they shut and open might,
O who can tell the praises of this makers might?
Idem.

Faire roome the presence of sweet Beauties pride,
The place the sunne upon the earth did hold:
When Phaethon his chariot did misguide,
The towne where jove raind downe himselfe in gold,
O if Elizium be above the ground,
Then here it is where nought but ioy is found.
Th. Nashe.

Loe Colin here the place whose pleasant sight
From other shades hath weand my wandring minde:
Tell me what wanteth here to worke delight?
The simple aire, the gentle warbling winde,
So calme, so coole, as no where els I finde:
The grassie ground with daintie daizies dight,
The bramble bush where byrds of every kinde,
To the waters fall, their tunes attemper right.
Ed. Spencer.

In little time these Ladies found
A grove with every pleasure crownd:
At whose sweet entry did resound
A ford, that flowred that holy ground,
From thence the sweet breathed windes conuay
Odours from every mirtle spray,
And other flowers: to whose aray
A hundred Harpes and Timbrels play
All pleasures study can inuent,
The Dames eares instantly present:
Voyces in all sorts different,
The foure parts and the Diapent.
G. Chapman.

— On the other side a pleasant grove
Was shot up hie, full of the stately tree,
That dedicated is to Olympicke jove:
And to his sonne Alcides, when as he
Gaind in Nemea goodly victorie:
Therein the merry byrds of every sort
Chaunted aloud their chearfull harmonie.
And made amongst themselues a sweet consent,
That quickened the dull sprites with musicall consent.
Ed. Spencer.

Vpon this mount there stood a stately grove,
Whose reaching armes to clip the welkin strove,
Of tufted Cedars and the braunching Pine,
Whose bushy tops themselues do so intwine,
As seemd when nature first this worke begunne.
She then conspirde against the piercing Sunne.
Vnder whose covert (thus divinely made)
Phebus greene lawrell flourisht in the shade.
Faire Venus mirtle, Mars his warlike firrhe,
Mineruaes Olive, and the weeping mirrhe.
The patient Palme which strives in spight of hate,
The Poplar to Alcides consecrate.
Which nature in such order had disposed,
And therewithall their goodly workes enclosed:
As serued for hangings and rich tapestry,
To bewtifie this stately gallery.
M. Drayton.

So faire a church as this had Venus none,
The walles were of discoulered jasper stone:
Wherein was Proteus carued, and over hed
A lively vine of green-sea-aggat spred:
Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,
And with the other wine from grapes out-wrung
Of christal shining faire the pavement was,
The Towne of Sestos called it Venus glasse.
There might you see the Gods in sundry shapes,
Committing heddy ryots, incests, rapes.
For underneath this radiant flower
Was Danaes statue in a brazen Tower.
jove slily stealing from his sisters bed,
To dally with Idalian Ganymede.
And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
And tumbling with the Rain-bow in a cloud.
Blood-quaffing Mars having the yron net,
With limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set.
Love kindling fier to burne such fiers as Troy,
Syluanus weeping for the lovely boy,
That now is turned into a Cypresse tree,
Vnder whose shade the wood-gods love to bee.
Ch. Marlowe.

Not that Colossus reared up in Rhodes,
Nor hanging gardens hovering in the skie:
Nor all the wonderous mansions and abodes
In Egypt, Lemnos, or in Italy.
Either for riches, cunning, or expence,
Might match this Labyrinth for excellence.
D. Lodge.

— Art striving to compare
With nature, did an arbor greene dispred:
Framed of wanton yvie, flowring faire,
Through which the fragrant Eglantine did spred
His pricking armes entraild with Roses red,
Which daintie odours round about them threw,
And all within with flowers was garnished:
That when mild Zephirus amongst them blew,
Did breath out bountious smelles and painted colour shew.
Ed. Sp.

The Tower of Beautie whence alone did flowe
More heavenly streames then former age had seene.
Taking their current from that learned hill,
Where lodge the brothers of admire and skil.
Amongst the sommer blossomes of their bowes,
A thousand severall coloured byrds was set:
Who moved (as seemed) by charitable vowes
Of excellent compassion, ever wet
With honourable teares (for Fates allowes
That sensible from sencelesse still shall set
Modells of pitie) learne there with melodie
To cheare mens minde foredone with miserie.
I. Markham.

— He leads him to rhe highest mount,
That blood-red billowes like a walled front
On either side disparted with his rod,
Till that his army dry foot through them yode
Dwelt fortie dayes upon; where writ in stone
With bloudy letters by the hand of God,
The bitter doombe of death and balefull mone
He did receive whiles flashing fire about him shonne.
Or like that sacred hill whose head full hie
Adornd with fruitfull Olives all around,
Is, as it were for endlesse memorie
Of that deare Lord, who oft thereon was found,
For ever with a flowring garlond crownd.
Or like that pleasant mount that is for aye,
Through famous Poets verse each where renownd:
On which the thrice three learned Ladies play,
Their heavenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay.
Ed. Spencer.

Right in the middest of the paradize
There stood a stately mount, on whose round top
A gloomy grove of mirtle trees did rise:
Whose shady bowes sharpe steele did never lop,
Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop.
But like a girlond compassed the height,
And from their fruitfull sides sweet gumme did drop:
That all the ground with pretious deaw bedight,
Threw forth most dainty Odors & most sweet delight.
And in the thickest covert of that shade,
There was a pleasant arbor, not by art,
But of the trees owne inclination made.
Which knitting their ranke braunches part to part:
With wand in yvie twine intraild a thwart,
And Eglantine and Caprifoile among:
Fashioned above within their inmost part,
That neither Phaebus beams could through them thrōg,
Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong.
Idem.

It was an hill plac't in an open plaine,
That round about was bordered with a wood
Of matchlesse height, that seemd th'earth disdaine:
In which all trees of honour stately stood,
And did all winter, as in sommer bud,
Spreading pavilions for the birds to bowre,
Within their lower braunches sung aloud,
And in the tops, the soaring haukes did towre,
Sitting like King of fowles in maiestie and power,
And at the foote thereof, a gentle floud
His siluer waves did softly tumble downe,
Vnmard with ragged mosse of filthy mud.
Ne mote wild beasts, ne mote the ruder clowne
Thereto approach, ne filth mote therein drowne,
But Nymphes and Fairies by the bankes did sit
In the woods shade, which did the waters crowne,
Keeping all noisome things away from it,
And to the waters fall tuning their accents fit.
And on the toppe thereof a spacious plaine,
Did spread it selfe it selfe to serue to all delight,
Either to daunce when they to daunce would faine,
Or else to course about their bases light.
Ne ought there wanted which for pleasure might
Desired be, or thence to banish bale,
So pleasantly the hill with equall height,
Did seeme to overlooke the lowly vale.
Therefore it rightly cleped was, Mount Acidale.
They say that Venus when she did dispose
Her selfe Her selfe to pleasance, vied to resort
Vnto this place, and therein to repose
And rest her selfe her selfe as in a gladsome port,
Or with the graces there to play and sport.
Ed. Spencer.

It was a chosen plot of fertile land
Amongst the wild waves set like a litle nest,
As if it had by natures cunning hand
Bene choicely picked out from all the rest,
And laid forth for ensample of the best.
No daintie flower nor hearbe that growes on ground,
No arboret with painted blossomes drest,
And smelling sweete, but there it might be found
To bud out faire, & her sweet smels throw all around.
No tree whose braunches did not bravely spring,
No braunch wherein a fine bird did not sit,
No bird but did her shrill notes ever sing,
No song but did containe a lovely dit.
Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fit,
For to allure fraile minds to carelesse ease.
Idem.
Groave.

A sandy Groave not farre away they spide,
That promisd aid the tempest to withstand,
Whose loftie trees yclad with sommers pride,
Did spread so broade, that heavens light did hide.
Not pierceable with power of any starre,
And all within were pathes and allies wide,
With footing worne, and leading inward farre.
Ed. Spencer.

The porch was all of Porphyrie and Tutch,
In which the sumptuous bvilding raised was:
With Images that seemed to move, see, touch.
Some hewd in stone, some carued in round cut brasse.
Also within the beauty was as much,
Vnder a stately arch they strait did passe
Vnto a court that good proportion bare,
And was each way one hundred cubits square.
Each of these sides a porch had passing faire,
That with an arch is into colours placed:
Of equall sise they seemed every paire,
Yet sundry workes with them they better graced.
At each of these a wide large easie staire,
Without the which all bvildings are defaced.
And those same staires so lately mounting, led
Each to a chamber richly furnished.
The colours hie, the chaplets gilt with gold,
The cornishes inricht with things of cost:
The marbles set from farre, and dearly sold,
By cunning workemen carued and embost
With Images and Antiques new and old.
Though now the night thereof concealed most,
Shew that that worke so rich beyond all measure,
Could scant be bvilded with a Princes treasure.
But nothing did so much the sight inrich,
As did the plenteous fountaine that did stand
Iust placed in the middle, under which
The Pages spred a Table out of hand,
And brought forth napery rich, and plate more rich:
And meats the choysest of the sea or land.
For though the house had stately roomes full many,
Yet in the sommer this was best of any,
This fountaine was by curious workemen brought
To answere to the rest with double square,
Eight female statues of white marble wrought,
With their left hands an azure skie upbare,
With raining still expelled heate and drought
From all that under it or neare it are.
In these right hands was Amaltheas horne,
By every one of those eight statures borne.
Each of those statues rested both their feete,
Vpon two Images of men belowe,
That seemd delighted with the noise so sweete,
That from the water came that there did flowe,
Also they seemd the Ladies lowly greete,
As though they did their names and vertues knowe.
In all their hands they held long scrowles of writings,
Of their owne pennings, and their owne endightings:
And in faire golden letters were their names,
Both of the women wrought and of the men.
The women were eight chaste and sober dames
That now do live, but were unborne as then,
The men were Poets, that their worthy fames
In time to come, should praise with learned pen.
These Images bare up a brazen tressell,
On which there stood a large white marble vessell:
This tooke the water from that Azure skie,
From whence with turning of some cocke or vice,
Great store of water would mount upon hie,
And wet all that same court even in a trice.
S. I. Harrington.

— When many a weary step
Had brought us to the top of yonder mount,
Milde Zephirus embraced us in his armes,
And in a cloude of sweete and rich perfumes,
Cast us into the lap of that greene meade,
Whose bosome stucke with purple Violets,
Halfe budded Lillies, and yoong Musk-rose trees,
About whose waste the amorous woodbine twines,
Whilst they seeme maidens in a lovers armes,
There on the curled forehead of a banke,
That sweld with camomill, over whose bewtie
A wanton Hyacinth held downe his head,
And by the winds helpe oft stole may abide,
He sate us downe, and thus we did arive.
Th. Dekkar.
Description of Seas, Waters, Rivers, &c.

The fertile Nile which creatures new doth foame,
Long Rhodanus whose sourse springs from the skie,
Faire Ister flowing from the mountaines hie,
Divine Scamander purpled yet with blood
Of Greekes and Troians which therein did lie:
Pactolus glistering with his golden flood,
And Tigris fierce, whose streames of none may be withstood.
Ed. Spencer.

Great Ganges and immortall Euphrates,
Deepe Indus, and Meander intricate,
Slowe Peneus and tempestuous Phasides,
Swift Rhene, and Alpheus still immaculate,
Oraxes feared for great Cyrus fate,
Tibris renowned for the Romains name.
Idem.

The Cydnus streame (who for his siluer flood,
Esteemd a King) ran now with humane blood.
Th. Hudson.

— Beside their trickled softly downe
A gentle streame, whose murmuring wave did play
Amongst the pumy stones and made a sound
To lull himselfe a sleepe that by it lay.
The wearie traveller wandring that way,
Therein did often quench his thirstie heate,
And then by it his wearie limmes display,
Whiles creeping slumber made him to forget
His former paine, and wipe away his toylsome sweate.
Ed. Spencer.

Faire Danubie is praisd for being wide,
Nylus commended for his sevenfold head,
Euphrates for the swiftnesse of the tide,
And for the garden whence his course is lead,
The bankes of Rhene with wines are overspread.
Take Loyre and Po, yet all may not compare
With English Thamesis for bvilding rare.
Th. Storer.

Great Nylus land where raine doth never fall.
Th. Hudson.

Anon he stalketh with an easie stride,
By some cleare Rivers lillie paved side,
Whose sands pure gold, whose pibbles precious gems,
And liquid siluer all the curling streams:
Whose chiding murmure mazing in and out,
With Christall cesterns, moates a meade about.
And th'artlesse bridges overthwart this torrent,
Are Rocks selfe-arched by the eating current.
Or loving palmes, whose lustie females willing,
Their marrow-boiling loves to be fulfilling,
And reach their husband trees on th'other bankes,
Bow their stiffe necks, and serue for passing plankes.
I. Syluester.
Description of Seas, waters, Rivers, &c.

I walkt along a streame for purenesse rare,
Brighter then sun-shine, for it did acquaint
The dullest sight with all the glorious pray,
That in the pibble paved chanell lay.
No molten Christall, but a Richer mine,
Euen natures rarest alchumie ran there,
Diamonds resolud, and substance more divine,
Through whose bright gliding current might appeare
A thousand naked Nymphes, whose yvorie shine,
Enameling the bankes, made them more deare
Then ever was that glorious Pallas gate,
Where the day-shining sunne in triumph sate.
Vpon this brim the Eglantine and Rose,
The Tamoriscke, Olive, and the Almond tree,
As kind companions in one union growes,
Folding their twindring armes as oft we see,
Turtle taught lovers either other close,
Lending to dulnesse, feeling Sympathie.
And as a costly vallance ore a bed,
So did their garland tops the brooke orespred:
Their leaves that differed both in shape and showe,
(Though all were greene) yet difference such in greene
Like to the checkered bent of Iris bowe,
Prided the running maine as it had beene.
Ch. Marlowe.

— In that meade proud making grasse,
A River like to liquid glasse,
Did with such soundfull murmure passe,
That with the same it wanton was.
Hard by this brooke a Pine had seat,
With goodly furniture compleat:
To make the place in state more great,
And lesning the the inflaming heat,
Which was with leaves so bewtified,
And spred his brest so thicke and wide,
That all the Sunnes estraunged pride,
Sustaind repulse on every side.
G. Chapman.

The well of life, to life can dead restore,
And gilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away:
Those that with sicknes were infected sore,
It could recure, and ages long decay
Renew, as it were borne that very day.
Both Silo this and jordan did excell,
And the English Bath, and eke the Germaine Spanie,
Ne can Cephise nor Hebrus match this well.
Ed. Spencer.

Rich Oranochie though but knowne of late,
And that huge River which doth beare his name
Of warlike Amazons, which do possesse the same.
Idem.

— With the murmuring cadence of the wave,
Which made a prettie wrangling as it went:
Chiding the bankes which no more limit gave,
There joind their wel-rund throats with such consent,
That even mad griefe at sight thereof grew grave,
And as inchanted, staid from languishment.
Proving, then their delight was never greater,
And griefe how much the more, so much the better.
I. Markham.

— Laid at ease a cubit from the ground,
Vpon a jasper fringd with juie round.
Pu•fled with waves, thick thrumbd with mossie rushes,
He falls a sleep fast by a silent river,
Whose captive streames through crooked pipes still rushing,
Make sweeter musicke with their gentle gushing.
Then now at Tivoli, th'Hydrantiketh'Hydrantike brawle,
Of rich Ferraras stately Cardinall,
Or C•esibes rare engines, framed there
Whereas they made of Ibis, jupiter.
I. Syluester.
Proper Epithites and Adiuncts to divers things. Of Trees, and Hearbes.

The sayling Pine, the Cedar proud and tall,
The Vine-prop Elme, the Poplar never drie,
The bvilder Oake, sole king of Forrests all,
The Aspine good for staves, the Cypresse funerall.
The Lawrell meed of mighty conquerours,
And Poets sage, the Firrhe that weepeth stil,
The Willow worne of forlorne paramours.
The Eughe obedient to the benders wil,
The Birch for shafts, the Sallow for the mil.
The Mirrhe sweet bleeding in the bitter wound,
The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing il.
The fruitfull Olive, and the Platane round,
The carued Holme, the Maple seldom inward sound.
Ed. Spencer.

Downe came the sacred Palmes, the Ashes wilde,
The funerall Cypresse, Holly ever greene:
The weeping Firre, thick Beech, and sayling Pine,
The maried Elme fell with his fruitful Vine.
The shooter Eughe, the broad leaved Sycamore,
The barraine Plataine, and the Walnut found,
The Mirrhe that her fowle sin doth stil deplore:
The Alder owner of all watrish ground,
Sweet juniper whose shadow hurteth sore,
Proud Cedar, Oake, the king of Forrests crownd.
Ed. Fairfax. Transl.

Behold fond Boy this Rozen weeping Pine,
This mournful Larix, dropping Turpentine.
This mounting Teda, thus with tempests torne,
With Inkie teares continually to mourne.
M. Drayton.

Alcides speckled Poplar tree,
The Palmes that Monarchs do obtaine,
With love-ivice staind the Mulbery,
The fruite that deawes the Poets braine.
And Phillis Philbert there away,
Comparde with Mirtle and the Bay.
The tree that Coffins doth adorne,
With stately height threatning the skie,
And for the bed of love forlorne.
The black and dolful Ebonie.
All in a circle compact are,
Like to an Amphitheater.
Math. Roydon.

The Spartane Mirtle whence sweet gums do flow,
The purple Hyacinth and fresh Costmary,
And Saffron sought, for in Cicilian soile,
Lawrel, the ornament of Phaebus toile.
Fresh Rododaphne and the Sabine flowre,
Matching the wealth of the auncient Frankensence:
And pallid Ivie bvilding his owne bowre,
And Boxe yet mindfull of his old offence:
Red Amaranthus lucklesse paramour:
Oxeye still greene and bitter patience.
Ne wants there pale Narcisse, that in a well
Seeing his beautie, in love with it fell.
Ed. Spencer.

Mirtle's dve to Venus, greene Lawrell dve to Apollo,
Corn to the lady Ceres, ripe grapes to the yōg mery Bacchus.
Poplar to Alcides, and Olives unto Minerua ▪
Gentle Amarāthus thou fairest floure of a thousand,
Shalt be loves floure hēceforth, thogh thou camest frō a bleeding,
Yet blood shalt thou stanch, this gift will I give thee for ever.
Abr. Fraunce.

Dead-sleeping Poppy and black Hellebore,
Cold Coloquintida, and Tetra mad,
Mortall Samnites and Cicuta bad,
With which th'uniust Athenians made to die,
Wise Socrates who thereof quaffing glad,
Powred out his life and last Philosophie.
To the faire Critias his dearest Belamye.
Ed. Spencer.

The wholesome Sage, and Lavender still gray,
Ranke-smelling Rue, and Comin good for eies:
The Roses raigning in the pride of May,
Sharpe Isope good for greene wounds remedies.
Faire Marygolds and Bees alluring Thime,
Sweet Marioram and Daizies decking prime.
Coole Violets and Orpin growing still,
Embathed Balme, and chearfull Galingale,
Fresh Costmary, and breathfull Camomill,
Dull Poppey, and drinke-quickning Setnale,
Veine-healing Veruin, and head-purging Dill,
Sound Savory, and Bazill harry hale.
Fat Colworts, and comforting Perseline,
Cold Lettuce, and refreshing Rosmarine.
Idem.

A soft enflowred banke imbraced the fount
Of Chloris ensignes, an abstracted field:
Where grew Melanthy, great in Bees account,
Amareus that precious balme doth yeeld.
Enameld Pansies, usde at nuptialls still,
Dianaes arrow, Cupids crimson sheeld:
Ope-morne, Night-shade, and Venus Navill.
Sollem Violets hanging heads as shamed,
And Verdant Calaminth for Odour famed.
Sacred Nepenthe purgative of care,
And soveraigne Ruberb that doth rancor kill.
Sia and Hyacinth that Furies weare,
White and red jessamines, merry Melliphill,
Faire crowne, imperiall emperour of flowres,
Immortall Amaranth, white Aphrodil,
And cuplike twill pants strewd in Bacchus bowres.
G. Chapman.

The Marigold Phaebus beloved friend,
The Moly which from sorcery doth defend.
M. Dray.
Of Beasts.

The spotted Panther, and the tusked Boare.
The Pardale swift, and the Tygre cruell,
The Antelope and Woolfe, both fierce and fell.
Ed. Spencer.

There might you see the burly Beare,
The Lyon king, the Elephant:
The mayden Vnicorne was there,
So was Acteons horned plant.
M. Roydon.
Rivers.

The fertile Nile, which creatures new doth frame,
Long Rhodams, whose sourse springs from the skie,
Faire Ister, flowing from the mountaines hie.
Divine Scamander, purpled yet with bloud
Of Greeks and Troians, which therein did lie,
Pactolus glistering with his golden floud,
And Tigris fierce, whose streams of none may be withstood.
Ed. Spencer.

Great Gauges, and immortal Euphrates,
Deepe Indus, and Meander intricate:
Slowe Peneus, and tempestuous Phasides,
Swift Rhene, and Alpheus stil immaculate,
Oraxes feared for great Cyrus fate,
Tibris renowmed for the Romane fame.
Idem.
Fishes.

Spring-headed Hydraes, and sea-shouldring Whales,
Great Whirpooles which all Fishes make to flie:
Bright Scholopendraes, armed with siluer scales,
Mightie Monoceros, with immeasured tailes:
The dreadfull Fish that doth deserue the name
Of death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hue,
The grisly wasserman that makes his game
The flying ships with swiftnesse to pursue.
The horrible sea-Satyresea-Satyre, that doth shewe
His fearful face in time of greatest storme
Huge Ziffius whom mariners do eschewe,
No lesse then rockes (as travailers informe)
And greedy Rosmarines with visages deforme.
Ed. Sp.

Is the brave Normans courage now forgot?
Or the bold Britons lost the use of shot?
The big boned Almains and stout Brabanters?
Or do the Piccards let the Crosbowes lie?
Once like the Centaurs of old Thessaly.
M. Dray ..
Of Birdes.

The skie-bred Eagle royall bird,
Percht there upon an Oake above:
The Turtle by him never stird,
Example of immortall love.
The Swan that sings, about to die,
Leaving Meander stood thereby.
M. Roydon.

The ill fac'te Owle deaths dreadfull messenger,
The hoarse night Raven, trompe of dolful dreere,
The lether winged Bat, dayes enemie,
The ruful Strich stil wayting on the beere,
The Whistler shril, that who so heares doth die,
The hellish Harpies prophets of sad destenie.
Ed. Spencer.

The red-shankt Orcads toucht with no remorse,
The light-foote Irish which with darts make warre.
Th'rancke ridined Scot his swift running horse,
The English Archer of a Lyons force.
The valiant Norman all his troopes among,
In bloody conquest tryed in armes traind long.
M. Drayton.
Of Hounds.

— Grimme Melampus with the Ethiops feete,
White Leucon, and all-eating Pamphagos,
Sharp-sighted Dorceus, wild Oribasus,
Storme breathing Lelaps, and the savage Theron,
Wing-footed Pteretas, and hind-like Ladon.
Greedy Harpia, and the painted Stycte,
Fierce Tygris, and the thicket searcher Agre,
The blacke Melaneus, and the brisled Lachne,
Leane-lustfull Cyprius, and big chested Aloe.
G. Chapman.

— Repentance sad,
Praier sweete charming, fasting, hairy clad.
I. Syl.

— In one consort there sate
Cruell revenge, and rancorous despight,
Disloyall treason, and heart-burning hate,
But gnawing jealouzie out of their sight
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bite,
And trembling feare still too and fro did flie,
And found no place where safe he shrowd him might.
Lamenting sorrowe did in darkenesse lie,
And shame his ugly face did hide from living eie.
Ed. Sp.

Fresh Hyacinthus Phoebus paramoure,
Foolish Narcisse that likes the watrie shore,
Sad Amaranthus made a flowre of late.
Idem.
Nimphs.

The wooddy Nymphs faire Hamadryades
And all the troupes of lightfoot Naides.
Ed. Sp.
Satires.

The Fawnes and Satires from the tufted brakes
Their brisly armes wreathd all about with snakes,
Their horned heads with woodbine chaplets crownd
With Cypresse javelings, and about their thies,
The flaggy haire disordered loosely flies.
M. Drayton.

Fresh shadowes fit to shrowd from sunny ray,
Faire fawnes to take the sunne in season dve,
Sweet springs in which a thousand bubbles play.
Soft rombling brookes, that gentle slomber drew.
High reared mounts, the lands about to vew.
Low looking dales, disjoind from common game,
Delightful bowres, to solace lovers true.
False Labyrinths, fond runners eyes to daze,
All which by nature made, did natures selfe amaze.
Ed. Spencer.

* Behind Cupid were reproach, repentance, shame,
Reproach the first, shame next, repent behinde:
Repentance feeble, sorrowfull and lame.
Reproach despightfull, carelesse and unkinde,
Shame most il-favoured, bestiall and blinde.
Shame lowrd, repentance sighed, reproach did scold:
Reproach sharpe, repentance whips entwinde,
Shame burning Taper in her hand did hold,
All three to each unlike, yet all made in one mould.
Idem.

* — Stearne strife and anger stout,
Vnquiet care, and sad unthriftie head:
Lewd losse of time, and sorrow being dead,
Inconstant change, and false disloyaltie,
Consuming riotize and guiltie dread
Of heavenly vengeance, faint Infirmitie,
Vile povertie, and lastly death with Infamie.
Idem.

* His angry steed did chide his frowning bitte.
Idem.

Rich Oranochye, though but knowne of late,
And that huge River which doth beare his name
Of warlike Amazons, which do possesse the same.
Ed. Spencer.
Hearbes.

The sable Henbane, Morrell making mad,
Cold poysoning Poppey, itching, drowsie, sad.
The stifning Carpese, th'eyes-foe Hemlock stinking,
Limb-numming, belching: and the sinew shrinking.
Dead-laughing Apium, weeping Aconite.
(Which in our vulgar deadly Wolfes Bane hight)
The dropsie-breeding, sorrow-bringing Psyllie,
(Here called Fleawurt) Colchis banefull Lillie.
(With us wild-Saffran) blistering, biting fell,
Hot Napell, making lips and toong to swell.
Blood-boyling Yew, and costive Misseltoe,
With yee-cold Mandrake.
I. Syluester.

* — Through crooked woods he wandreth,
Round-winding rings, and intricate Meaanders,
False guiding pathes, doubtful beguiling straies.
And right strong errors of an endlesse maze.
Idem.

* There springs the shrub tree foote above the grasse,
Which feares the keene edge of the Curtelace:
Whereof the rich Egiptian so endeares,
Roote, barke, and fruite, and yet much more the teares.
There lives the sea-oake in a litle shell,
There growes untild the ruddy Cochenell,
And there the Chermez, which on each side armes
With pointed prickles all his precious armes,
Rich trees and fruitfull in these wormes of price,
Which pressed, yeeld a crimson coloured ivice,
When thousand lambs are died so deepe in graine,
That their owne mothers know them not againe,
There mounts the Melt which serues in Mexico,
For weapon, wood, needle and thred to sowe,
Bricke, honey, sugar, sucket, balme, and wine,
Parchment, perfume, apparell, cord, and line,
His wood for fier, his harder leaves are fit,
For thousand uses of inuentive wit.
I. Syluester.

The pedant minister, and seruing clarke,
The ten pound base, frize ierkin hireling,
The farmers chaplaine, with his quarter warke.
The twentie noble Curate and the thing
Called Elder, all these needs will bring
All reverend titles into deadly hate
Their godly calling, and their hie estate.
Th. Storer.
Of Trees.

The shady Groaves of noble palme-tree spraies,
Of amorous mirtles and immortall baies.
Never unlearned, but evermore there new,
Selfe-arching armes in thousand arbours grew.
I. Syluester.
Rivers.

Swift Guylon, Phyton and rich Tigris tide,
And that faire streame whose siluer waves do kis,
The Monarch towers of proud Semyranis.
Euprates.
Idem.
Of Homer.

Sweete numbred Homer.
I. Syl.

Heartstealing Homer, marrow of the Muses,
Chiefe grace of Greece, best pearle of Poetrie,
Drowner of soules, with arts orewhelming sluces,
Embellished with Phoebes lunarie,
Deckt with the graces rich imbroderie.
Sweete honey-suckle, whence all Poets sprights,
Sucke the sweete honey of divine delights.
C. Fitz-Ieffrey.
Of S. P. S.

Hector tongued Sydney, Englands Mars and Muse.
Idem.
Windes.

— O heavens fresh fannes quoth hee,
Earths sweeping broomes, of forrests enemie:
O you my Heraulds and my messengers,
My nimble posts and speedy messengers,
My armes, my sinewes, and my Eagles swift,
That through the aire my rolling chariot lift.
I. Syluester.

The Aeolian crowde.
Idem.

* O sacred Olive, firstling of the fruites,
Health-boading braunch.
Idem.

* The proud horse, the rough-skind Elephant,
The lustie bull, the Camell water want.
Idem.

* — Let the pearly morne
The radiant Moone, and rhumie evening see
Thy necke still yoaked with captivitie.
Idem.

* There natures story, till th'heaven shaker dread,
In his iust wrath, the flaming sword had set,
The passage into Paradice to let.
I. Syluester.
Of the infernall floud.

— He summond up
With thundring call the damned crew, that sup
Of sulphurie Stix, and fiery Phlegeton,
Bloudie Cocytus, muddy Acheron.
I. Syluester.

* The sunne the seasons stinter.
Idem.
Of language before confusion.

— Ah that language sweete
Sure bond of Cities friendships masticke sweete,
Strong curbe of anger yerst united, now
In thousand drie brookes straies, I wot not how:
That rare rich gold, that charme griefe, fancie mover•
That calm-rage, harts theefe, quel-pride coniure-lover,
That purest coine then currant in each coast
Now mingled, hath sound, waight, and colour lost.
Tis counterfeit, and over every shoare,
The confusd fall of Babell yet doth roare.
Idem.

— Then all spake the speech
Of God himselfe, th'old sacred Idiome rich,
Right perfect language, wher's no point nor signe.
But hides some rare deepe misterie behind.
Idem.
Of Scaliger.

— Scaliger our ages wonder,
The learned's sunne, who eloquently can
Speake Hebrew, Greeke, French, Latine, Nubian,
Dutch, Tuscan, Spanish, English, Arabicke.
The Sirian, Persian, and the Caldaike.
O rich quicke spirit; O wits Chamelion,
Which any authors colour can put on.
Great julius fame, and Siluius worthy brother,
Th'immortall grace of Gascony, their mother,
Idem.

Wing-footed Hermes, pursevant of jove.
Idem.
Of the Hebrew tongue.

— All haile thou sempiternall spring
Of spirituall pictures, speech of heavens hie King,
Mother and mistresse of all the tongues the prime,
Which pure hast past such vast deepe gulphs of time,
Which hast no word but waies, whose elements
Flowe with hid sense, thy points with sacraments.
O sacred Dialect, in thee the names
Of men, townes, countries, register their fames
In briefe abridgements: and the names of birds,
Of water guests, and forrest haunting heards,
Are open brookes, where every man might read.
Miscellanea. Of the Graces. * Acidale.

— The Graces daughters of delight,
Handmaides of Venus, which are wont to haunt
* Vpon this hill, and daunce there day and night,
Those three to men all gifts of graces graunt,
And all that Venus in her selfe her selfe doth vaunt,
Is borrowed of them.
Ed. Sp.

They are the daughters of skie-ruling jove,
By him begot of faire Eurynome,
The Oceans daughter in this pleasant Grove,
As he this way comming from feastfull glee
Of Thetis wedding with Aeacidee,
In sommers shade himselfe here rested weary.
The first of them hight mild Euphrosyne,
Next faire Aglaia, last Thalia merry,
Sweet goddesses al three, which men in mirth do cherry
Therfore they alwaies smoothly seemd to smile,
That we likewise should mild and gentle bee,
And also naked are, that without guile
Or false dissemblance all them plaine may see,
Simple and true, from covert malice free:
And eke themselues so in their daunce they bore,
That two of them stil forward seemd to bee.
But one stil forwards shoved her selfe her selfe afore,
That good should from us go, then come in greater store.
Idem.
Simoniake and unlearned Ministers.

Such men are like our curtaines at their best,
To make us sleepe, or hinder us from light:
Troublers of nature, children of the West,
Haters of sence, adopted sonnes of night,
In whom the wise both sorrow and delight.
Yet were there not such Vegetalls the while,
What had the wiser sort whereat to smile?
Th. Storer.

Renowmed Picus of Mirandula,
Hated the substance of a Clergy man
That was unlettered, and made a lawe,
An ignorant which never had began
To seeke, or after seeking never scan.
Some part of somewhat that might wisedome bring,
Should be accounted but a living thing.
Idem.

The noble Tichobraghe for whose deare sake
All Denmarke is in admirations love:
In deepe regard such difference doth make
Betweene those men whose spirits soare above,
And those base essents which only move.
That in his Iles Horizon he admits
No cloudy Meteors of such foggy wits.
Idem.
Of Beasts.

The multitude to jove a sute imparts,
With neighing, blaying, braying, and barking,
Roring and howling, for to have a king.
A king in language theirs they said they would,
(For then their language was a perfect speech)
The Byrds likewise which chirpes and pving could,
Cackling and chattering, that of jove beseech,
Only the Owle still warnd them not to seech.
So hastily, that, which they would repent,
But saw they would, and he to desarts went.
jove wisely said (for wisedome wisely saies)
O Beasts take heed what you of me desire,
Rulers will thinke all things made them to please,
And soone forget the swinke dve to their hire,
But since you will part of my heavenly fire,
I will you lend, the rest your selues your selues must give,
That it both seene and felt may with you live.
Full glad they were, and tooke the naked sprite
Which strait the earth ycloathed in his clay:
The Lyon hart; the Ownce gave active might.
The Horse good shape; the Sparrow lust to play,
Nightingale voyce, entising songs to say.
Elephant gave a perfect memory,
And Parrot ready toong that to apply.
The Foxe gave craft; the Dogge gave flattery,
Asse patience; the Mole a working thought:
•agle high thought, Wolfe secret crueltie,
Monky sweet breath; the Cow her faire eyes brought
The Ermion whitest skin, spotted with nought.
The Sheepe mild seeming face, climing the Beare,
The Stag did give the harme-eschuing feare.
The Hare her sleights, the Cat his melancholy,
•nt industry, and Conny skill to bvild:
•anes order; Storkes to be appearing holy.
•amelion ease to chaunge, Ducke ease to yeeld,
•rocodile teares, which might be falsly spild.
Ape greeting gave, though he did mowing stand,
The instrument of instruments the hand.
S. Phil. Sidney.
Preparations for defence.

•me bvilt the breaches of their broken towne,
•hat heaven and Panimire had broken downe.
•me other found a Cautell gainst the Ramme,
To save the wall unbroken where it came.
Thus jacobs townes on all sides had their flankes
With Gabions strong, with bulwarkes and with bankes.
Some others busie went and came in routs,
To Terrace Towers, some under baskets louts.
Some others also wanting time and might
To strength their Townes, yet used all kind of slight
To dig up ditches deepe for Cesternes good,
To draw to them the best and nearest flood.
Th. Hudson.

* — The hidden love that now adayes doth hold,
The steele and load-stone, Hydrargire and gold.
The Amber and straw; that lodgeth in one shell,
Pearle-fish and Sharpling: and unites so well
Sargons and Goates, the Sperage and the Rose,
Th'Elme and the Vine, th'Olive and Mirtle bush
Is but a sparke or shadow of that love,
Which at the first in every thing did move.
When as the earths Muses with harmonious sound,
To heavens sweet musicke humbly did resound.
But Adam being chiefe of all the strings
Of this large Lute, ore-retched, quickly brings
All out of tune: and now for melody
Of warbling charmes, it yells so hideously
That it affrights fell Enynon, who turmoiles
To raise againe th'old Chaos anticke broiles.
I. Syl.

* — Holy Nectar that in heavenly bowers
Eternally selfe-powring Hebe powers.
Or blest Ambrosia, Gods immortal fare.
Idem.

* O who shall show the countenance and gestures
Of mercy and iustice? which faire sacred sisters
With equal poize do ever ballance even,
Th'unchanging proiects of the king of heaven.
Th'one sterne of looke, the other mild aspecting,
Th'one pleasd with teares, th'other blood affecting.
Th'one beares the sword of vengeance unrelenting,
Th'other kings pardon, for the true repenting.
The one earths Eden, Adam did dismisse,
Th'other hath raisde him to a higher blisse.
Idem.

* Day hath his golden Sun, her Moone the night,
Her fixt and wandring starres, the azure skie:
So framed all by their Creators might,
That stil they live and shine, and nere shall die.
Till in a moment with the last dayes brand
They burne, and with them, burne earth, sea and land.
Ed. Fairfax.

— The Wolfe the trembling sheepe pursues,
The crowing Cocke the Lyon stout eschues.
The Pullaine hide them from the Puttocks flight,
The Masties mute at the Hyaenas sight.
Yea, who would thinke of this fel enmities?
Rage in the sencelesse trunks of plants and trees.
The Vine, the Cole, the Colewort Sow bread dreeds,
The Fearne abhorres the hollow waving Reeds.
The Olive and the Oake participate,
Euen to their earth, signes of their auncient hate.
Which suffers not (ô date lesse discord) th'one
Live in that ground, where th'other first hath growne.
I. Syl.

So at the sound of Wolfe-drums ratling thunder,
Th'affrighted sheep-skin drum doth rent in sunder.
So that fell monsters twisted entraile cuts
By secret power the poore Lambes twined guts.
Which after death in stead of bleating mute,
Are taught to speake upon an juory Lute.
And so the princely Eagles ravening plumes,
The feathers of all other fowle consumes.
Idem.

* — There the tree from of whose trembling top,
Both swimming Shoales and flying troupes do drop.
I meane the tree now in juturna growing,
Whose leaves dispearst by Zephyrs wanton blowing,
Are metamorphosed both in forme and matter,
On land to fowles, to fishes on the water.
Idem.

* — The Partrich new hatched beares
On her weake backe, her parents house, and weares
In stead of wings, a bever rupple downe
Followes her damme, through furrows up and downe ▪
Idem.

* — We see the new falne silly Lambe
Yet staind with blood of his distressed damme,
Knowes well the Wolfe, at whose fell sight he shakes,
And right the teate of th'unknowne Eawe he takes.
Idem.
Furies.

Alecto, sad Megera, and Thesiphon,
The nights blacke saunghters grim-faced Furies sad.
Sterne Plutoes posts.
I. Syluester.
Nepenthe.

Nepenthe is a drinke of soveraigne grace,
Devised of the Gods for to assage
Hearts griefe, and bitter gall away to chase,
Which stirre up anguish and contentious rage,
In stead thereof, sweete peace and quiet age,
It doth establish in the troubled minde
Fewe men but such as sober are and sage,
Are by the Gods to drinke thereof assignde,
But such as drinke, eternall happinesse do finde.
Ed. Sp.

— Nepenthe enemie to sadnesse,
Repelling sorrowes, and repeating gladnesse.
Elyxer that excells,
Save men or angells, every creature ells.
I. Syl.
Of Eccho.

Th'aires daughter Eccho haunting woods among,
A blab that will not (cannot keepe her tongue)
Who never askes, but ever answeres all,
Who lets not any her in vaine to call.
Idem.
Of the Marigold.

The Marigold so likes the lovely Sunne,
That wh•n he sets, the other hides his face:
And when he gins his morning course to runne,
She spreads abroad, and shewes her greatest grace.
T. Watson.
Of the Eagle.

No bird but joves can looke against the sunne.
Idem.

— Enuies bird must say when all is donne,
No bird but one is sacred to the sunne.
Idem.
Hercules Labours.

Beast, Snake, Bore, Stag, Birds, Belt, Plankes, Bull,
Theefe, Fruite, Dog Diomede,
Choakt, scard, pauncht, cought, pierst, prizd,
Washt, throwen, slaine, puld, chaind, horsed.
W. Warner.
Nylus.

Great Nilus land, where raine doth never fall.
T. Hudson.

There quakes the plant, which in Pudefetan
Is called the shamefac't, for ashamed of man,
If toward it one do approach too much,
It shrinkes the boughes, to shun our hatefull touch.
As if it had a soule, a sense, and sight,
Subiect to shame, feare, sorow and despight.
I. Syluester.
Of Acheron.

Rude Acheron, a loathsome lake to hell,
That boiles and bubs up swelth as blacke as hell.
Where grisly Charon at their fixed tide
Still ferries ghosts unto the farther side.
M. Sackuile.
Echidna.

Echidna is a monster direfull dread,
Whom Gods do hate and heavens abhorre to see:
So hidious is her shape, so huge her head,
That even the hellish fiends affrighted bee
At sight thereof, and from her presence flie.
Yet did her faire and former parts professe,
A faire young maiden, full of comely glee:
But all her hinder parts did plaine expresse,
A monstrous Dragon, full of fearefull uglinesse.
Ed. Spencer.
4. Cardinall vertues.

Andronica that wisely sees before,
And Phronesis the judge, and chaste Drucilla,
And she that boldly fights for vertues lore,
Descending from the Romine race Camilla.
S. I. Harrington.
Of the Eagle.

The Cedar-building Eagle beares the winde,
And not the Falchon, though both Haukes by kinde.
That Kingly bird doth from the clouds command
The fearefull fowle that moves but nere the land.
M. Dray.
〈1 page duplicate〉
〈1 page duplicate〉
Phoenix.

— The bird of fame
That still renewes it selfe it selfe and never dies,
And onely one in all the world there flies.
S. I. Harrington.

* Of all chast birds the Phaenix doth excell,
Of all strong beasts the Lyon beares the bell:
Of all sweete flowers, the Rose doth sweetest smell.
Of all pure mettalls gold is onely purest,
Of all the trees the Pine hath highest crest.
Of all proud birds the Eagle pleaseth jove,
Of pretie fowles kind Venus likes the Dove,
Of trees Minerua doth the Olive move.
T. Lodge.

* Who holdeth league with Neptune and the winde?
S. Dan.

The Phaenix gazeth on the sunnes bright beames,
The Echinaeus swims against the streames.
R. Greene.
Impossibilities.

He that the number of the leaves could cast,
That in November falles by winters blast:
He that could tell the drops of raine and sleete,
That Hyad, Orion, or Pleyiades weete.
Sheds on the ground that man might onely tell,
What teares from judiths eies incestant fell.
Th. Hudson.

— Like Coruive who forgate
His Proper name; or like George Trapezunce,
Learned in youth, and in his age a dunce.
I. Syl.

The firmament shall retrograde his course,
Swift Euphrates go hide him in his sourse:
Firme mountains skip like lambes beneath the deepe,
Eagles shall dive, whales in the aire shall keepe.
Ere I presume with fingers end to touch,
Much lesse with lippes the fruite forbid too much.
I. Syluester.

Flie from thy channell, Thames forsake thy streames,
Leave the Adamant Iron, Phoebus lay thy beames.
Cease heavenly spheres, at last your watrie warke
Betray your charge, returne to Chaos darke.
At least some ruthlesse Tigre hang her whelpe,
My Catisbye so with some excuse to helpe,
M. M.
Ceston.

That girdle gave the vertue of chast love,
And wivehood true to all that did it beare:
But whosoever contrary doth prove,
Might not the same about her middle weare,
But it would loose or else asunder teare,
Whilom it was (as Faieries wont report)
Dame Venus girdle by her esteemd deare
What time she usde to live in wively sort.
But laid aside when so she usde her sport.
Her husband Vulcan whilome for her sake,
When first he loved her with heart intire,
This precious ornament they say did make.
And wrought in Lemnos with unquenched fire,
And afterward did for her first loves hire,
Give it to her for ever to remaine,
Therewith to bind lascivious desire,
And loose affections straightly to restraine,
Which vertue it for ever did retaine.
This goodly Belt, was Ceston called by name.
Ed. Spencer.

* The noble Lyon never slaies the least,
But alwaies praies upon some worthy beast.
The thunder throwes his sulphured shafts adowne,
On Atlas high, or cold Riphins crowne.
The tempest fell more feruently doth fall
On houses high, then on the homely hall.
Th. Hudson.

* Saturn taught men untaught before, to eare the lusty land,
And how to pierce the pathlesse aire with shafts from bowmans hand.
God Dis did quaile to see his gold so fast conuaid from hell,
And fishes quakt, when men in ships amidst their flouds did dwell.
V V. V Varner.
Twelue foule faults.

A wise man living like a drone, an old man not devout,
Youth disobedient, rich men that are charitie without:
A shameles womā, vicious Lords, a poore man proudly stout.
Cōtentious Christiās, Pastors, that their functiōs do neglect,
A wicked King, no discipline, no lawes men to direct,
Are twelue the foulest faults that most all common-wealths infect.
W. Warner.
Engines of warre.

— The Inginers have the Trepan drest,
And reared up the Ramme for battery best.
Here bends the Briccoll while the Cable crackes,
There Crosbowes were uprent with yron Rackes.
Here crooked Coruies fleing Bridges tall,
Their scathfull Scorpions that rvines the wall,
On every side they raise with jointure meete,
The timber Towres for to commaund the streete.
The painfull Pioners wrought against their will,
With fleakes and Faggots, ditches up to fill.
Th. Hudson.

* — The happie Arabs those that bvilds
In thatched Wagons wandring through the fields.
The subtil Tirians they who first were Clarkes,
That staid the wandring words in leaves and barkes.
Idem.

* At Babell first confused toongs of every language grew.
W. Warner.

— Idolatry did growe
* From Ninus first, he first a Monarchy did frame.
Idem.

* Lord Dane the same was called thē, to thē a pleasing name,
Now odiously Lordan say we, when idle mates we blame.
Idem.

* The Turtle that is true and chaste in love,
Shewes by her mate something the spirit doth move.
The Arabian byrd that never is but one,
Is only chaste because she is alone.
But had our mother Nature made them two,
They would have done as Doves and Sparrowes do.
But therefore made a Martyr in desire,
And doth her pennance lastly in the fire.
M. Drayton.

* I cast not with fooles, suffer Saints, let mighty fooles be mad,
Note, Seneca by newes done for precepts, pennance had.
W. Warner.

* The Romane widow dide when she beheld
Her sonne, whom erst she counted slaine in feeld.
G. Gascoigne.
Rivers.

Faire Danubie is praisde for being wide,
Nilus commended for the seven-fold head:
Euphrates for the swiftnesse of the tide,
And for the garden whence his course is led,
The bankes of Rhine with Vines are overspred.
Take Loyre and Po, yet all may not compare
With English Thamesis for bvildings rare.
Th. Storer.
FINIS.
FAmes windy trump blew up this haughty mind
To do or wish, to do what here you find:
Twas ne're held error yet in errant Knights
(Which priviledge he claims) to dress their fights
In high hyperbolies: for youths example,
To make their minds, as they grow men, grow ample.
Thus such atchievements are assaid and done
As pass the common power and sence of man.
Then let high spirits strive to imitate,
Not what he did, but what he doth relate.